Ducklings
by gingerbritishgypsyelf
Summary: An intruder at NCIS headquarters leads to a Scottish girl with a strange past. Also, someone has it out for NCIS. But who? And why? Should include hints at Tiva.
1. Duck Hunting

Duck Hunting

"Gibbs." Gibbs said tersely as he picked up his phone. He nodded twice, then said, "Done." and hung up. Tony, Ziva, and McGee all looked on and he turned to them.

"We have an intruder alert. They found two guards out cold and they've been out for a while. They didn't see their attacker, but a camera picked up the edge of something going by, still unidentified. Security is going over the tapes so the director said for you to find the intruder and bring him in. Think of it as a training exercise."

"Right, boss." Tony replied, sliding on a bulletproof vest. He tucked a pair of handcuffs onto his belt, and met McGee and Ziva in the center of the room.

"I'll start in Autopsy," Tony volunteered.

"I will start on the top floor." Ziva stated, and McGee nodded,

"I'll get Abby somewhere safe, then check the perimeter."

"Move!" ordered Gibbs, and they headed for the elevator. "Take the stairs," Gibbs said. "I'll be waiting in the elevator if he decides to board."

Despite the four of them being spectacular investigators, their eyes failed to miss a flash of dark red hair from the stairs.

____________________

Ziva worked her way systematically through the top floor, giving people the 4-1-1 on the situation, and warning them to be on the lookout. She moved down a floor and continued scouring for the intruder. She was Moussad and no intruder would get the better of her. She was trained to kill.

Tony started in autopsy and used a similar strategy to Ziva's, spreading information and keeping both eyes open. He met Abby on her way up to Gibbs' office, which was the safest place in the whole NCIS building. She beamed at him.

"Hi Tony."

"Hey Abby."

"Who do you think got in? Do you think it might have been a spy? Because these guards are trained pretty well, Tony, and I think that we must have something super-important information or something. Like a top-secret file or an agent that knows too much." Abby's pigtails bobbed as she gestured with her arms excitedly.

Tony shrugged, for once not quoting a movie line, though he had several to throw out. He was too busy for that at the moment.

As Abby met Gibbs in the elevator, Tony turned, hearing a noise. He studied the room but nothing was there. Tony spent a good fifteen minutes looking through the room for the source of the noise but found nothing. The girl whom had made it was already gone.

Two hours later, Tony, Ziva, and McGee met back in their 'office.'

"Nothing?" Tony asked. The other two shook their heads. Ziva looked put-out.

"They have slithered through our fingers." she declared.

"I think you mean slipped." Tony corrected. Ziva scowled.

"It is the same thing."

Tony would have dearly loved to argue but Gibbs' desk phone rang and Gibbs strode out of the elevator and pressed the speakerphone button.

"Gibbs."

"Jethro, you need to come down here, now." Ducky's voice came in on the phone clearly, with a woman's voice in the background.

"If you'll just listen to me!" the voice shouted, exasperated, desperate, frightened .

"I've caught our intruder." Ducky explained. The phone then went dead, leaving the dial tone after a few seconds.

"Ducky." Gibbs said, pulling his gun out of the holster. Ziva, Tony and McGee all followed suit and they got on the elevator.

"Abby, stay here." Gibbs ordered. Abby nodded quickly, looking worried, as the elevator doors closed.

"How are we doin' this boss?" asked Tony.

"We're doing it well, DiNozzo. I'll get Ducky, Ziva can get the intruder--don't kill her David--and McGee and you can back us up."

The elevator door dinged open and the four rushed out, taking positions outside the autopsy doors. There was a pause as Gibbs glanced in, then nodded. They burst through the door, guns aimed.

"Hands on your head!" Gibbs barked. Ducky blinked at him through wide-rimmed glasses. He was alone in autopsy.

"Where'd she go Duck?"

"Not far. She's probably still in the building."

"And why is that?"

"She came here to talk to me. As far as I can tell, it is extremely important to her. I don't think she'll leave until she finds me again."

"Is she dangerous, Duck?"

"My instincts say no, but she took out two armed guards, Jethro."

"Security says she used chloroform," Gibbs informed him.

"Smart girl, then. I think if we wait a little while longer, she'll come back. Go back to your office, Jethro. Plan, talk, just convince her you're not looking at the moment. She will try again."

"And when she does, Duck? Then what?"

"I'll have the whole thing on speakerphone."

"How, Ducky?"

"I'll manage Jethro. I always do."

"I don't like it," Gibbs growled. "What if she decides she wants to do more then talk? She might be armed."

"What does your famous gut tell you?"

Gibbs hesitated a fraction of a second, then nodded and left autopsy, his team trailing behind him. They rode the elevator to their office room, then sat at their desks, talked, planned. They were all alert, on edge.

It took an hour for the phone to ring. Gibbs picked it up, put it on speaker instantly.

"I didn't want to hurt anyone," came the woman's voice. It still held a note of terror.

"I believe you," said Ducky.

There was a pause and McGee took the moment to bring the autopsy cameras online. There was a woman in autopsy, but the lights were off, save one over an operating table. The woman kept out of the light.

"I just wanted to meet you. My mother would tell me the story of the night you met over and over. I loved to hear it. She said you were a gentleman. You don't have many gentleman in the world, she said to me." The woman had a Scottish accent, but it was only a hair stronger than Ducky's.

"Your mother?" Ducky asked. He didn't sound afraid, but the girl sounded like a nervous wreck.

"Yes. Her name is Amy. Amy Smith." Her voice shook a bit, but it was then controlled.

"Amy Smith…" Ducky mused. "Does she have red hair?"

"Yes!" Delight was evident in the woman's voice. Gibbs signaled for his team to follow. Abby had already left and was currently in the director's office. The team took the elevator again.

They rode the elevator back to autopsy, but when they arrived, again, she was gone. Ducky looked disappointed.

"Jethro, she saw the lights on the elevator and took the stairs. I wish you had waited a few minutes longer."

"We don't know who she is Ducky, she could have killed you."

"Jethro, I don't think she is here to kill me. She's here to tell me something."

"Everyone at my desk. Now." Gibbs ordered. They all piled back into the elevator. Only when they arrived in their office, a redheaded young woman was reclining in Ziva's chair. Ziva had a gun pressed to her head before she could blink.

"Stay very still or I will shoot you." Ziva ordered.

The young woman looked a little scared, but did not move. "That's very cold." She said. Ziva smiled wickedly.

"Not if I fire it."

"My dear Ziva, put the gun down." Ducky said. "I've been trying to get this girl to tell me something for a quite while now."

Ziva looked to Gibbs, who nodded. She lowered the gun.

"So, what brings you to NCIS, Ms. Smith?"

"Actually, I don't use my mother's name…" the girl paused, hesitating, "I prefer my father's last name…Mallard." She said all of this deadpan, as though she had planned the words long before now.

"Oh my. You're not--?" Ducky began, but the woman smiled a little hesitantly.

"Yes. I'm your daughter."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**First chapter was long with lots of 'splainin to do. Next one will get to who the girl is and what she wants. This story should have hints of Tiva. Reviews please!!!**


	2. Hatching

Duckling

"_Oh my. You're not--?" Ducky began, but the woman smiled a little hesitantly. _

"_Yes. I'm your daughter."_

______________________

The team stared at the Scottish girl in the chair, her brown eyes studying Ducky for a reaction. She looked nervous, and the silence grew longer and more awkward, until Ducky finally broke it.

"Why did she not say anything?"

"You were vacationing in Scotland and she got pregnant with me. She came here, to America, to look for you, but she didn't know who to talk to or where to look. And then I was born early while she was still here. I have dual citizenship because of that. Then when I was about a month old, we went back to Scotland and I've been there ever since. She sort of gave up on you coming back, because you didn't know, but she told me stories about you." The woman's eyes shone with excitement and she beamed at Ducky, whom still looked shocked. She put her feet on the ground, leaning forward in Ziva's swivel chair.

"Sorry to break up the reunion, Duck, but she knocked out two guards and broke into a government building. We're getting her to interrogation." Gibbs put a hand on the girl's arm, which she shook off.

"Oy!" the girl exclaimed, her accent strong as she protested her innocence. "There weren't even any guards at the door! And I ducked past the visitor booth."

"Do not think you can pull the sheep over our eyes," Ziva told her, disbelieving, "We are not stupid."

"Wool, Ziva," Tony said.

"What?"

"Pull the wool over our eyes. Not sheep."

"Same difference." she grumbled. Gibbs shot the pair of them a look.

"Interrogation. Now." Gibbs ordered, pointing to the elevator.

"I didn't _do_ anything," the woman protested. "All I wanted was to find Doctor Mallard, just to meet him. Walking into a building isn't illegal!."

"Save it for interrogation." Gibbs told her. The girl opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it with visible effort and stood up. Gibbs gestured for Tony to restrain her.

"I don't need handcuffs, you great ape." The girl growled at Tony. He shrugged, and cuffed her wrists anyway. Ducky just watched, and said nothing as they took his daughter to interrogation.

____________________________

"Rock the baby," Tony said with a nod, referring to one of Gibbs' favorite interrogation techniques. Ziva didn't say anything. Through the glass, the woman sat stubbornly, chin jutted forward, arms crossed over her chest. She didn't appear to be spacing out, only waiting.

"It will not work. She did not do it," Ziva stated, studying the girl through the glass.

"It always works, Ziva, and there is no way she got in here on a coincidence."

"I will wager you ten dollars that she did not knock out those guards."

"That's a bet." Tony nodded and turned his attention back to the one-way glass, where Gibbs burst into the room. The woman flinched, but didn't jump or yell.

"Your story is you got into a federal government building on a coincidence."

"Yes. And it isn't a story, it's the truth."

"You also claim to be the daughter of Doctor Mallard."

"I _am_ his daughter. You can get a paternity test done if you want." the woman challenged.

"I might just do that. Now, let's start with the basics." Gibbs opened the manila file folder he was carrying and placed a clean white paper on the table. "This is a copy of your birth certificate. It confirms that your mother's name is Amy Smith, but there isn't a father's signature."

"Because my father wasn't there when I was born." the woman repeated.

Gibbs gave her the stare, which seemed to make her a little uneasy, but the woman stood her ground.

"Your name." Gibbs ordered.

"Robin Wren Mallard."

On the other side of the glass, Tony snorted. Ziva looked at him, confused,

"What is so funny?"

"Birds. All of her names are birds." Tony explained, still laughing.

"My mother has a sick sense of humor." Robin said dryly, as though she had heard Tony's remarks. Gibbs ignored her comment and began a rapid attack of questions.

"Date of birth?"

"October 6, 1980."

"Age?"

"Twenty-nine."

"Home country?"

"Scotland."

"Us Citizen?"

"Yes."

"Parents?"

"Mother, Father, and Stepfather. Stepfather is in the US Navy. He is deployed to Scotland. Sergeant Mark Carston."

"Why did you break into NCIS?"

"I didn't break in! I came to find my father and there weren't any guards. I just avoided the visitor desk because I assumed you needed special clearance."

Gibbs scowled and stared her down. Robin leaned back a little and suddenly, the door to interrogation swung open.

"Boss." McGee's face appeared through the door.

"McGee this had better be really important."

"It is."

Gibbs threw Robin a look, then left interrogation and closed the door. A moment later, they walked into the observation room that Tony and Ziva stood in.

"Boss, we got a guy on the cameras. It's definitely not Ducky's daughter--or rather, um alleged daughter--" McGee corrected himself, seeing Gibbs' look. "Her story checks out perfectly. We have her on several cameras, entering the building. Security wants another sweep done, though. They're locking down each floor, and searching it, and closing off all the stairwells."

Gibbs nodded, then jerked his thumb at Robin, whom was studying the table from the other side of the glass. "DiNozzo, get her to Abby's lab. We're running a paternity test. McGee, I need you in our security system. Find that guy and do it now. David, go with DiNozzo. Abby's lab is to be closed off from everything. No one goes in or out until I give the all-clear."

"Yes Boss." McGee and DiNozzo said simultaneously. Ziva just nodded.

Robin didn't jump when Tony and Ziva entered interrogation, but when Tony pulled out his handcuffs, she stood up, shoving her chair back.

"You've got her if I run off, so don't think you're getting those back on me." She said, indicating Ziva. Tony frowned, but walked over with the cuffs in one hand.

Robin took a few steps back. "I'm not armed and I told you, I didn't hurt anybody. Now where are you taking me?"

"We're getting a paternity test done. Now just let me put these on you."

"Not likely."

"Ms. Mallard--"

"Don't you "Ms. Mallard" me. I told you I'd walk."

"Do you want to let me put these on, or do I have to pin you down first?"

"Bet you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Robin muttered, but Ziva pulled Tony aside.

"Just let her walk, Tony. I can handle her if she tries to run."

Robin eyed the pair of them defiantly, and Tony looked at Ziva, then sighed, and opened the door.

"Ladies first."

__________________

"Hey, Abby." Tony greeted the Goth scientist as he closed and locked the door to her lab. Her music played at a reasonable volume for once.

"Tony! Ziva! Did you catch the guy yet?"

"We're working on it, but we need you to run a paternity test."

Abby raise her eyebrows as her gaze fell on Robin, and she looked a little surprised and a little weirded out.

"Tony, I didn't know you--"

"I didn't." he interrupted. "This is Robin. She claims to be Ducky's daughter."

The scientist studied Robin, then smiled. "No problem!"

"Good. Ziva and I are staying here until Gibbs gives the okay. They're searching the building again. Speaking of which, how did you get past us?"

Robin smiled, "Carefully. You nearly caught me two or three times. It's a good thing someone didn't secure the stairwell properly last time, or I would have been in some deep trouble."

"So if you were trying to keep from getting caught, why did you go back to our office?" Ziva asked.

"It was where the elevator started from and I saw the camera on the ceiling. I figured that if I wanted to stop being chased and just explain myself, that would be the best place to go. I was also listening when you got the phone call about the intruder. I was on the stairs."

"I knew we were being watched!" Ziva exclaimed.

"Okay, so you're supposed to be Ducky's daughter?" Abby asked skeptically.

"I _am_ Doctor Mallard's daughter." Robin affirmed touchily.

"So where have you been all these years? How come he didn't know about you?"

"It was a whirlwind thing when he was visiting Scotland. He met my mother there. And I've lived there ever since I was a month old. I was born in America."

"Uh-huh." Abby replied, still skeptical, as she began getting equipment out of a cabinet. Robin scowled at the scientist's back. Abby pulled out a small package and everything was quiet for a long time. Tony fidgeted a lot, but Ziva shot him a look and he stopped. Abby turned around.

"Open your mouth please."

Robin complied and Abby stuck a cotton swap into it and gently rubbed the inside of her cheek with it. When she was done, she took it over to a machine and began doing something with it. Robin didn't really see what she was doing, but she didn't really care how it got done, as long as it did.

"I have Ducky's DNA on file." Abby announced, and she began typing on one of her multiple computers. "This will take a while, but when we get Robin's DNA processed, then we can see if it is a positive match. It'll only take a few hours for my guys to do your DNA."

"What guys?" Robin asked. Abby gestured around the room at all the machines.

"My guys! All my machines!"

"Oh." Robin said, nodding. She glanced at Tony and Ziva, whom were both lounging against the wall, used to Abby and her eccentricities. She examined Abby, then turned her gaze back to Tony, then on to Ziva. Cocking her head, she walked closer to the Moussad agent and leaned in a little. Ziva's body tensed and her hand went to her belt.

"You're Jewish." Robin said, her expression bland.

Ziva's hand twitched on the hilt of her gun. "Yes. Do you have a problem with this?" Her tone was unmistakably hostile and Tony tensed, ready to hold back his partner if need be.

"No," Robin's tone didn't change, though she had undoubtedly noticed Ziva and Tony's change in posture. "My friend Sarah's Jewish. I was just noticing."

Ziva leaned back against the wall, still tense. Tony put a hand on her arm as Robin turned away to look around.

"Easy, Ziva." he muttered. Ziva let her hand slide from her gun and scowled.

"So what does Gibbs want me to do now?" she asked, after pressing a button on a machine.

"Wait." Ziva interjected.

Abby nodded and skipped off to her office as Robin stared off after her.

"She is an odd girl."

Tony smiled. "That's our Abby."

There was another long silence, during which Tony ran a free hand through his hair and smiled charmingly at Robin.

"So…" was all he got out before Robin smirked and said,

"I'm a few years too young and many IQ points too smart for you."

Ziva laughed out loud, stifling the chuckle as Tony shot her a glare.

"You were shut down, yes?"

"_Shot _down, Zee-Vah."

Ziva waved her hand lazily, as if to say, 'of course, of course,' and wandered into Abby's office. Robin was left standing in the lab, Tony a meter or two away. She ignored him and proceeded to walk around the lab, inspecting the equipment without touching. Tony looked her over. He'd never imagined any of Ducky's offspring this…pretty. She had very dark red hair, so dark it was nearly an auburn, falling straight to her shoulders, where it curled loosely at the ends, and framed the pale skin of her face and throat. Her left eyebrow had a nick through it, in silvery scar tissue, and she had a dusting of pale, nearly-invisible freckles across her strait nose. Her body was slim, and covered by loose clothing, but she moved with easy grace, as though she was completely at home inside her skin. There was something almost catlike in the way she moved, Tony thought to himself.

"Googling the girl, Tony?" Ziva's breath was warm against his ear as she whispered, catching him by surprise. Tony jumped. He hadn't even heard her leave Abby's office.

"Ogling. And no, I was looking around." He whispered back.

"You have seen all this before. Why do you not ask Abby if she needs any help?"

Tony shrugged and whispered "Whatever, Zee-Vah," before strutting off into Abby's office. Ziva was alone with Robin in the lab. She walked up behind her and tapped the Scottish girl's shoulder. Robin jumped a little, startled, and turned around.

"What are you doing here?" Ziva asked.

"I already told Agent Gibbs the whole story. I assume you were listening, if all the police programs I've seen are true."

"We were. And that reminds me, Tony owes me ten dollars." Ziva's forehead wrinkled for a moment, before she relaxed, "I will get it from him later. But you have not said why you came to find Ducky now, out of all the years of your life."

"I could afford it. I've been saving up for a long time."

"Plane tickets are not that expensive. You could easily save money up. Especially with our economy going down the sink."

"Down the toilet." Robin corrected absently, examining a large piece of equipment on Abby's table.

"Same difference," Ziva grumbled. Robin shrugged and Ziva suddenly froze, and looked straight at Robin, suspicious.

"You are not American."

"Technically I'm a citizen; I was born here."

"But you do not live in America. So how do you know the idioms used here? In the UK, they do not use the same ones."

"My step-dad is American. He's been married to my mother for six or seven years. Besides, I speak English just fine and as a first language, which makes translation easier, while it sounds like it is your second language."

"Fifth." Ziva said. Robin looked over, brown eyes showing a new emotion--respect.

"Impressive."

"Thank you."

There was a long pause, then Tony walked in.

"Gibbs was just on. They caught the guy." He unlocked the lab door and rushed out, Ziva close behind. Robin shrugged, then followed them.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**Now that I've finished the excruciatingly long opener, let's get ready for some real plot! Who's the intruder? Why come in to NCIS? What are they going to do with Robin? Will Ducky speak to her, or accept her as his daughter? Is she even his daughter? WHAT HAPPENS NEXT??? Learn all this and more…next chapter!!! Reviews please!!!!!!!**


	3. Questions and Answers

Questions and Answers

Tony and Ziva made it to the elevator before Robin could get there, so she waited, pressing the up button. After a minute or two, the elevator returned. Climbing in, Robin pressed a number and waited, examining the ceiling, the walls, the floor. When the elevator dinged and opened, Robin walked out and into the squad room. McGee was sitting at his desk, typing furiously on a computer and no one else was to be seen.

"Where is everyone?" Robin asked.

McGee didn't look up. "Interrogation."

"And what floor is that on?"

"What do you mean what floor is--" McGee looked up and his eyes widened, mouth dropping open.

"Where did you come from?"

"Some people say heaven. Those who know me a bit better say otherwise, though."

"No, I mean…never mind. Gibbs will go nuts if he hears Tony and Ziva forgot about you. You're supposed to be in Abby's lab."

"Who's supposed to be in Abby's lab?" Gibbs asked, walking in from the elevator.

"Um," McGee began, but Gibbs had spotted Robin.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well Tony and Ziva left. I assumed I was supposed to say with them. But their elevator left first and I came here because I thought that was where they would be."

"You're supposed to be in Abby's lab, but she can't watch you now. Come with me." Gibbs shot McGee a look and grabbed a file off of his desk. "Forgot my file."

McGee winced and Robin waved at him as she trotted after Gibbs. She was smiling easily as she stepped into the elevator, and Gibbs punched the number for his floor.

"Are you taking me back to Abby's lab?"

"Nope."

"Well, where are you taking me?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

Robin frowned a little as they stepped out of the elevator. Gibbs walked into the little room off of interrogation and Robin followed. As she walked in, Gibbs gestured to her.

"Would either of you care to explain what she was doing wandering around the squad room?"

"Boss, I--"

"Gibbs I can--" Tony, then Ziva began, but Gibbs cut them off.

"I need at least one of you, and the other one needs to make sure she doesn't get into any trouble. Make a decision. Now." He exited, leaving Tony, Ziva, and Robin, alone in the tension-filled room.

"Um…I'll just wait outside then," Robin inched towards the door, but Ziva had her arm gripped tightly in one hand the second she started moving.

"That's coupin'." Robin protested. Both Tony and Ziva stared at her, perplexed.

"That's what?" Tony spluttered.

"Coupin'." Robin repeated.

"What is that?" Ziva asked, curious.

"Coupin' means it hurts. A lot. Now let go of my arm."

"As if I did not have enough trouble with idioms," Ziva grumbled, loosening her grip on Robin's arm. "Now you have to add Scottish sayings to the list."

Tony looked from Ziva to Robin, then back. "I say we stick her in an interrogation room."

Ziva shrugged. "Sounds good."

Robin raised the hand that Ziva didn't have restrained. "Do I get a say in this at all?"

"No," Ziva replied easily. Tony took Robin's arm from Ziva, which Robin shook off.

"I'll tolerate her, she can kill me. You can keep yer hands to yourself."

Tony threw Ziva an annoyed glance, but led Robin to the next interrogation room down.

"We'll come and get you in a while."

"That's likely." Robin snorted, "You'll probably forget me again."

"Hey!" Tony protested, as Robin walked into interrogation.

"_You_ forgot. So don't 'hey' me."

"So I got caught up in the excitement and made a Probie mistake."

"Probie?"

"Probationary agent."

"Ah."

"Yes. Now goodbye. We'll get you before dinner."

"You'd better. If I starve, my mother'll sue the breeches off of you all."

"Yeah. Great." Tony closed the door, leaving Robin in interrogation. Ziva stood outside, leaning against the wall.

"You took long enough, Tony."

"I'm sure you could have done better, Zee-Vah, but I thought that maybe I should gain experience."

"Well, I hope you learned something."

"I'm sure I have."

"Good."

They both walked back to the observation room for interrogations, where a very ordinary man was sitting with Gibbs. He had brown hair, was average height and in shape, but not overly muscular. He was, however, immaculately groomed. His hair was combed neatly and cut in a military style. His clothes were also very clean, and he dressed for business. It was no wonder it had taken so long to find him, he blended right in—the crisp business suit, the neat pressed tie, the clean black leather shoes; he looked like someone from the legal section of NCIS. Tony noted a little pin on his lapel with the Navy insignia on it.

"He did his homework." Tony commented.

"Actually Tony, a suit is common in most business buildings. They did not have to sneak into NCIS to figure out that much."

Tony shot Ziva an annoyed glance. "Do you have to know everything all the time?"

"Perhaps. Must you always be so annoying?"

Gibbs looked back, and though he only saw his face in the glass, Ziva and Tony stopped arguing. The man hadn't said anything yet, but he sat stiffly, shoulders squared. On his face, there was a hard non-expression.

"He does not respect Gibbs." Ziva observed.

"How did--"

"Look at his face, Tony. It shows no respect. If anything, it is aggressive."

"Ziva, there's no way you could possibly--"

"You broke into a federal building, took out two guards, and evaded out people for over an hour. Why." Gibbs' voice came through the speaker and the partners stopped arguing.

The other man said nothing, sitting silently, an air of smug superiority around him.

"I asked you a question."

The man said nothing once more, and Gibbs stood, walking around the table.

"You are an officer in the Navy. It won't take my people long to find out who you are, and it will be much faster if you just tell us."

McGee burst into the observation room, and a man in a Navy uniform stood behind him.

"What is it McGee?" Tony demanded. McGee gestured to the man behind him.

"This is Commander Lucas. He wants to know why we are holding his sailor."

"That could be a problem." Tony said, "Seeing as we don't know his name. How do you know we have your soldier?"

"His name is Lieutenant Frederick Grams, and I know you have him because he sent me a text message saying you took him in."

Tony winced, then looked over at Ziva, "We didn't search him, did we?"

Ziva shrugged. "That was McGee's job."

McGee turned a little pale and his eyes widened. "I thought it was Tony's job."

"Nope, it was yours. And don't worry. I'm sure after our screw-up, yours will look like nothing in comparison."

McGee gulped and left the observation room, sticking his head into Interrogation Room one.

"Boss? We have a problem."

"Well it had better be pretty important, McGee."

"It is."

The sailor's smug expression spread to the rest of his features as Gibbs got up.

"Wipe that look off your face, sailor. I'll be back for you in a minute." Gibbs left and McGee went into the interrogation room and took the sailor's phone.

____________________________

Once Robin found the camera, she stared silently at it for a good half-hour, then entertained herself by talking to it.

"Well, this isn't anything like I imagined America. It's cleaner, for one, but much smaller. And apparently it has metal walls. It's funny, because on maps, it looks a lit different then a small, square room. And another thing. In Scotland, we generally don't stick innocent people into interrogation rooms for no good reason."

She went over to the table and sat on the edge of it, then pulled herself all the way up so the was sitting on the tabletop. She turned her attention back to the camera.

"So," she began amicably, "is this how you treat family in America? Because if so, your country is much better on the telly then it is in real life. And if this was an actual interrogation, I would need a lawyer. Only, there's no one here to demand it from, so I dunno how I'm going to get one of them. At least it'd be someone to talk to. Don't you have a book, or a magazine, or a paper? And what if I have to use the lavey? Then what? I cannae just go in here, can I?" Her Scottish accent grew thicker and thicker until she was barely understandable. As she took a breath, then restarted, the accent vanished.

"I've practiced my American accent for along time. You lack a few of the sounds of my Scottish English, but it isn't too hard to mimic you. It feels odd, though." If someone had heard that sentence, they would have assumed she was fooling around about being Scottish because she had about as much of an accent as Tony.

After a few minutes of chattering to the camera, she wandered around, examining the room she was in. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, then walked to the corner farthest from the door, sat against it, and leaned her head back and stretched her legs out. She leaned forward, easily reaching her feet. This was going to be a long day.

_______________________

About twenty minutes later, Gibbs and Commander Lucas had just finished arguing as Tony returned from the coffee machine.

"What'd I miss?" He asked Ziva, interested.

"Commander Lucas says that Gibbs has no right to hold his officer. Gibbs said he broke into NCIS. Lucas says he has no proof. The whole time, the sailor was sitting in interrogation, that smug grin on his face."

"Huh."

"What?"

"I just thought Gibbs would have gotten more headway."

"More what?"

"Headway…um, he would have gotten ahead of Commander Lucas by now."

"Oh. Then why did you not just say that?"

"DiNozzo, David, Commander Lucas will be watching my interrogation, after he comes in and tells his man to cooperate."

"Yes, Boss." Tony replied quickly. Soon after that, Gibbs' phone rang.

He opened it. "Yeah?"

"On my way."

He looked at Commander Lucas, then at Lieutenant Grams. "You say here."

He stuck his head into the observation room, where Tony and Ziva were watching Lucas pull up a chair. Gibbs motioned to the man wearing headphones, recording the conversation.

"Keep that tape running, you hear? You two, with me. A sailor's home was just blown up. It was deliberate and we have two bodies."

Tony and Ziva scrambled out, following Gibbs. "Gear, and meet me there in the truck. Bring McGee."

They grabbed their gear, got into the truck, drove to the scene. The house was still burning, though fire fighters were doing their best to put it out. Two bodies covered with sheets were on stretchers in the back of an ambulance. The fire was bowing to the fire hoses, and it was soon out.

The fire chief came over to Gibbs. "You NCIS?"

"Yup." Gibbs inspected the scene. "What've you got."

"Definitely a bomb. Didn't touch it; knew you would want to look at all sorts of things with it. Only remnants, really. Just a bunch of plastic, melted. But here's the sick bit. There wasn't only a bomb. There was a ring of gasoline around the house. Someone wanted these people dead really bad."

"Who were the victims?"

"We don't know. The house belongs to Lieutenant Commander Rishe and his wife, so we're assuming those are the victims."

"Once your guys are clear, we'll need all their prints and DNA."

"You betcha. Anything we can do to help?"

"Yup. Catch me the dirt bag who did this."

"Would if I could. We'll be by the truck."

"McGee, prints and DNA. DiNozzo, David, photos and take a look at the scene."

"On it, Boss."

As Gibbs pulled on latex gloves and approached the still-smoking home, his cell phone rang. It was Abby.

"Gibbs? I just got a positive DNA match. Robin is definitely Ducky's daughter."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

**The plot thickens and gets more confusing!!! Yay!!! Well now we know that Robin is Ducky's daughter, but what's with the arson and bomb? Are they connected to the break-in? Will Robin die of starvation in Interrogation Room Two? Will I EVER get to some Tiva? Find out…next chapter!!! Reviews please!!!!**


	4. Speculum

Speculum

There was a knock on the interrogation room door and Robin looked up as Ducky stepped in.

"Abby just told me the results. You _are_ my daughter."

Robins face split into a wide smile. "I said that, didn't I?"

"You did indeed." Ducky closed the door, walked over to Robin. "May I sit with you?"

"It's your interrogation room." Robin replied, patting the floor next to her.

Ducky groaned a little as he lowered himself onto the floor. "I'm getting too old to be sitting on floors."

"You aren't allowed to be old yet, I've only just met you. Give it a while. You can be old later." Robin smiled and Ducky sat and looked at her, studying his only daughter.

"You don't look much like me," he informed her, smiling. "Which is probably a good thing."

"Mum says I have your eyes."

Ducky lifted his glasses and inspected her eyes. "So you do."

"I used to stare at myself in the mirror, very close up, and imagine what you looked like. I only had your eyes to go on, which made it very hard."

"I would imagine so." Ducky chuckled.

They sat there quietly for a while, as Robin stared at her father, drinking in the details--his glasses, the way his hair was combed, his sensible shoes.

"Mum said you told her the most marvelous, incredible story once. With a hippo in it. She could never figure out what it was about, but she remembered there was a hippo."

"I have seen more than one hippopotamus in my time. There was one particularly fascinating encounter with one when I was in the plains of Tanzania. I was just walking along, going to a village a few miles off the beaten path, and suddenly there was this enormous hippopotamus in my path…."

______________________________

Click. Click. Click. The shutter of the camera clicked at Ziva snapped picture after picture of the scene. Bomb remnants. Leftover gasoline container. Place where the bodies were found. House as a whole. Probable origin location of the fire. All were recorded in flashes of the camera. Tony was already tag-and-bagging evidence. Gibbs picked up his phone and called Ducky. He didn't need him at the scene, Ducky already knew that, but he needed autopsy prepared for the two victims.

"Duck? We have two bodies. TOD probably isn't possible, they burned to death. But I need to tables in autopsy ready for them.

"All right, Jethro. I'll be there when you arrive."

"Good to know." He hung up and dodged McGee, who was carrying a stack of bags and papers.

"Got fingerprints and DNA swabs, boss."

"Good. Go help Tony and Ziva."

"Right away, Boss."

McGee grabbed his gear from the back of the truck and walked over to where Tony and Ziva were methodically photographing evidence, then tagging and bagging it.

__________________________________

Robin watched her father walk out the door to interrogation.

"When Gibbs returns, I will ask that he let you out of here." He told her with a smile. Robin smiled back, faintly. Once Ducky was gone, she slumped back. She had enjoyed his story a lot, and now all she could think of doing was calling her mother to let her know that her search hadn't been in vain. To tell her that she had found her father. To tell her that the dad she had wanted for her entire life was not quite the superhero of her imaginings, but was good enough for her.

The interrogation room was empty, and Robin sighed loudly. She could talk to the camera again, but she doubted that it would be interesting. Besides, if she really wanted to leave, she probably could. She used to have a lighter in her pocket, and the alarm was right above her head. But it would get her into even more trouble, so she didn't. With another loud sigh, she slumped a little farther down in her corner and tilted her head back, closing her eyes. She had found her father, only to be stuck in this room alone.

_______________________

"We're done processing the scene, boss."

The ambulance had left with the bodies a few minutes ago and Tony walked over to Gibbs, sliding off his latex gloves.

"Good. Take Ziva and McGee and go back to base. You and Ziva find people who knew the family. Get all this to Abby, then tell McGee to give her a hand. We've got a load of evidence to process and I want it done fast."

"Right away, boss. Come on McGee!" Tony shouted the last part, then started off and climbed into the van. Ziva was already sitting in the driver's seat.

"Oh no. I need to get back to NCIS in one piece Zee-Vah. And this evidence is too important to be burned again when you crash us into a tree."

"Tony, I can drive just fine." Ziva said.

"Yeah, maybe if you're imitating a crash test dummy." Tony leaned in very close to Ziva's face. "Let me _drive_, Officer David." He growled in his boss-voice. Ziva got very still, and they both sat there for a minute, breathing a little shakily into each others' faces, until they heard the other door open. Ziva slid into the middle as McGee climbed in on the other side.

"Keys?" Tony held out his hand and Ziva dropped them into his palm.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome."

Tony started the truck and pulled off into the street, heading towards NCIS. He clicked on the radio and turned it up loud, grinning as the music blasted in his ears. Ziva didn't say anything the entire trip back, sitting silently between her partner and McGee.

They arrived at NCIS and started unloading. There was an enormous amount of burned fragments. As they carried the first few containers into the evidence room, Tony spotted the empty interrogation room on the screen. Abby was watching it, her face a little disappointed.

"What's up Abs?" Tony asked, eyeing the screen, confused.

"Oh that! That's the interrogation room that Robin's in."

"And you are watching her because…" Ziva asked, a little puzzled.

"She was talking to the camera a while ago. It was pretty funny, actually. She sounded very Scottish."

"Did you get it on tape?" Tony asked eagerly and was awarded by a slap on the back of the head.

"Hi Boss." Tony greeted Gibbs, "We were just going to get the next round of boxes."

Gibbs shot him a look, then redirected his attention to Abby. "So did she say anything interesting?"

"If by interesting you mean suspicious and worth looking into, then no. If you mean interesting as in funny then—"

"Which one do you think I mean, Abby?"

"Point taken. Is this all the evidence taken from the scene?"

"Yup. Start processing, Abs. Fingerprints first, then all the—"

"I know how to do my _job_ Gibbs!" Abby mock-complained. Then she grinned, ducking her head a little to peer at Gibbs through her bangs. "Did you bring me any motivation?" She asked hopefully. Gibbs slammed a Caf-Pow down on the table next to her and she grinned.

"You're the best, Gibbs!"

"I know, Abs. Now get to work."

"Aye aye sir!" She saluted and started on work as Tony, McGee, and Ziva arrived with the last set of boxes.

"What'd you need Abby?" McGee asked.

"You start dusting from prints and check for blood."

Tony and Ziva exited into the corridor and took the elevator up. As Ziva headed towards the bullpen, Tony hesitated. "We should check on Robin."

Ziva nodded, agreeing a little stiffly. They opened the door to the second interrogation room as Gibbs walked into the first one, which contained the navy lieutenant and his commander. Tony winced as he watched him go in.

"I almost feel sorry for them."

"Sorry for who?" Robin asked as they walked in. She stood. "Please tell me I'm allowed out of this box."

"None of your business. And no. You're allowed a bathroom break and something to eat."

"You know, prisoners get better treatment then this."

"Think of yourself in solitary confinement." Tony told her.

Robin shot him an annoyed glance and followed Ziva out the door. "I haven't done anything wrong."

"I think illegally entering a government building counts as a crime, at least in the United States. I don't know how it works over there in Ireland."

"_Scotland_." Robin snapped.

"Whatever." They reached the women's room and Robin looked over at Tony, then to Ziva.

"He _isn't_ coming _in_?"

"No. I am sure that Tony would enjoy it, but I can handle this." Ziva replied, holding the door for Robin. She walked in and went into a stall. Ziva stood, back to the door of the restroom, and watched Robin's feet under the stall.

"This is very creepy." Robin said, as she opened the stall door and washed her hands.

"It is my job."

"To be creepy? Consider yourself a professional."

Ziva ground her teeth a little but only said, "I know over one hundred ways to kill you without Tony hearing me."

"I don't doubt that," Robin replied. "You look like you could hurt me. Creepy and threatening. Not a good combination." She dried her hands and walked over to Ziva, who opened the door and followed her out. Robin was feeling grouchy about the whole solitary confinement thing and regretted snapping at Ziva, but said nothing.

"Apparently you're creepy, Ziva?" Tony asked, lounging against a wall a good ten feet from the bathroom door.

"How did you hear that?" Robin's expression changed to one of surprise.

"Little birdie told me," Tony replied, but then his eyes widened. "Oh. Oh boy. I can't believe I didn't see this before. Birdie. Robin Wren Mallard. Birdie. Oh _this_, this is great."

"Would you care to stop babbling and speak English?" Robin asked, annoyed. She wasn't looking forward to be stuck in that room again, and Tony was babbling like an idiot was trying her limited patience.

"Birdie."

"Tony, you are not using complete sentences." Ziva informed him.

"No, this girl, _this girl right here_, is Birdie."

Robin's face darkened, but Ziva didn't seem to get it. "You are not making sense, Tony."

"Oh but I am, Zee-Vah. Her names are all bird names. So she's a birdie."

"Try calling me that and see how well it works for you." Robin growled. She shook her red hair out of her face and shook her arms loosely so the long sleeves of her shirt no longer covered her hands.

"All right, have it your way." Tony put his hands up in the air, surrendering. "Just so you know though, threatening a federal agent isn't a good idea."

Ziva ignored both of them and led Robin down to the snack machine. Robin hadn't eaten since breakfast and it was now about one in the afternoon. Her stomach rumbled.

"Yer both dobbers if you think I'm going to just have a bag of crisps and go along my business. I haven't eaten in ages!"

"We're both what?" Tony asked.

"A bag of what?" Ziva asked.

Robin would have been amused if she hadn't been so frustrated about the whole situation. "Dobbers. Means idiots. Crisps. Those things made out of taters that're fried really thin and put in a bag."

"Taters?" Ziva looked confused.

"Po-ta-toes."

"Why did you not just say that?"

"Area dialect." Robin said shortly, not bothering to go into details. "Now am I allowed to have some real food or not?"

"It's my turn to buy lunch," Tony said.

"Yes, but Gibbs needs one of us. If you are buying lunch and I am helping Gibbs, we will have to put her back into the interrogation room."

"Don't put me back in there. It's stifling," Robin interjected, not liking the prospect of more time in the interrogation room, alone.

"Well we cannot just leave you here," Ziva replied.

"Let me stay in the lab. There's an agent in there, and I give you my word that I will stay out of the way."

"I am not sure about this." Ziva said uncertainly, but Tony nodded.

"It'll be fine, Ziva. McGee carries a gun if she gets any ideas."

Ziva still looked a little uncertain about the whole situation, but they walked Robin to the lab anyhow. She seemed happy to be walking around and Tony took the opportunity to get a better look at her. The clothes made the man…or woman…and he wanted to learn a little more about this particular woman who was apparently Ducky's long-lost daughter. She was wearing sensible black shoes and black slacks with a white long sleeved blouse, and the sleeves covered her hands to the knuckles. Her arms swung loosely at her sides and she walked with a slight swing to her hip. In front of her was Ziva. Tony glanced around for a moment, checking that no one was looking, then let his gaze wander over Ziva as well.

She was worth looking at, that was for sure, and she wasn't paying attention to him at the moment, as she led Robin down various corridors. As Robin turned the corner, Tony spotted a flash of silver on her hand. Scar tissue. He wondered where she had gotten that. They knew very little about Robin, and that was the second visible scar he had seen. There was the one on her eyebrow, and now the one on her hand. Maybe she did something hazardous as a job, like lion-taming. Tony was about to picture her in a skimpy costume, when they turned a corner and he watched Ziva push her hair over one shoulder. There was no reason not to have a little fun with pictures later, when he got bored, but Ziva was standing right there and she was, in his flawless opinion, more beautiful. Much more beautiful. She was exotic and…

"Tony." Ziva called, jarring him out of his thoughts.

"What? What?" Tony spluttered quickly.

Ziva raised her eyebrow, "What will we tell Gibbs?"

"He won't ask."

"And what if he does?"

"I'll take the blame."

They arrived at the lab as Ziva was coming up with another argument. Abby and McGee were taking fingerprints off of various objects and Tony cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Probie, Abs, we're leaving Birdie with you."

"Birdie?" Abby asked, delighted. "That's adorable!"

Robin glowered at Tony, but stayed silent. Anything that kept her out of the interrogation room was fine with her, even if she had to endure this ridiculous nickname.

"Probie. If she tries anything, you know what to do. She promised to stay out of the way."

McGee nodded and went back to his fingerprinting and Robin looked around, then sat down on Abby's chair, in front of her computers.

"Good." Tony said, and he followed Ziva out.

"I will go assist Gibbs. If he asks, you have taken care of Birdie." Ziva said, adopting the nickname.

"Right. You want a salad at lunch?"

"Yes, thank you."

They went their separate ways, Tony glancing over his shoulder to get one last glimpse of Ziva as she turned the corner. Making his way to his car, he hummed the Pink Panther theme and was about to picture Ziva in the lion tamer's costume when he hesitated, realizing exactly what Ziva would do to him if she knew he was having these thoughts. Shuddering, Tony turned on the radio and started the car. Better safe than sorry.

______________________________________

Abby and McGee were dusting the red-orange gasoline jug for prints, leaning over it together.

"You see, fingerprints left on plastic can survive for _years_, McGee." Abby was explaining, "They can even survive _fire_ as long as they're not charred."

Robin hopped off of her stool and walked over, "Really?"

Abby shot her a sideways glance, and Robin took a step back, but stopped and said, "Wait."

"What?" Abby asked. McGee looked up.

"What's that?" Robin asked, pointing to a black smudgy design on the container. She leaned in for a closer look, but Abby moved her back.

"Don't breathe on it; the condensation from your breath might leave DNA. I'll get my magnifying glass." Abby ordered as McGee squinted at the blurred design.

"How did you see that?"

"It's the size of a daisy," Robin retorted, "How did you miss it?"

Abby came back with the magnifying glass and trained it on the symbol. It was a complex pattern of two circles, one inside the other, and a large number of zigzag lines going between them, connecting at the center of the small circle. Robin's eyes widened and she put a hand to her chest, muttering something in another language that neither Abby nor McGee understood.

"Call your boss." Robin ordered, her voice tight, holding a mixture of fear and anger.

"What is it? What does the symbol mean?" Abby asked, but Robin shook her head.

McGee pressed his phone to his ear, and waited a moment as Abby and Robin looked on.

"Boss, we have something you need to see." He paused, listening, then hung up.

"He's coming?" Robin asked insistently.

McGee nodded. "Now what's this about? What does the symbol mean?"

Robin shook her head again, "Scunners me, this thing," she muttered, "You'd have to be really mental to go through with the sort of—"

"It _what's_ you?" Abby asked, incredulous.

"Scunners." Robin replied, beginning to get annoyed with everyone's lack of ability to understand her speech habits.

"Which means?" McGee asked.

"It makes me sick."

"What makes you sick?" Gibbs asked as he walked in, "Or more importantly, what do you have for me, Abs?"

"Not me," Abby said, "Birdie."

"Birdie?" Gibbs asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Robin!" Abby explained.

"Well whoever it is, what is it?"

"This symbol," Robin said, pointing to the gasoline carton.

"What about it?"

"It's a symbol of Nazism, and neo-nazism, called the black sun. Whatever fire this can started, it wasn't for toasting marshmallows. And if this has anything to do with the man in the other interrogation room, then you should send Ziva in to check. He will not respond to her."

"Are you sure about the symbol?"

"I have seen a lot of evil things, Agent Gibbs, and this is one of them. I am positive."

"Things just got a whole lot more complicated," Gibbs growled, and he strode out of the lab, calling over his shoulder, "Keep working Abby, McGee. And Robin? Stay there."

**Dum Dum Dum!!!! The plot thickens yet again! What will happen next? Who burned down that house? Why did that other man break into NCIS? Will Robin's insight prove useful? Find out in the next chapter!!!**

**NOTE: I do not in any way support Nazism, which was terrible and evil, or neo-Nazism, which is sick.** **However, Germans are not all Nazis and I don't want to point fingers. Also, the symbol on the jug can be further looked up on the internet if you want to see what it looks like.**


	5. Hail Call

Hail Call

"I think now would be a really good time to explain how you know about that symbol," Abby declared, glaring at Robin. "It's a little convenient, isn't it?"

Robin's face was a dark mask, "Nazism is convenient, is it? Yeah, this is just great. Hatred for no good reason, that's what it is. And if you're implying I had anything to do with this, I have a few good words for you."

McGee's eyebrows shot up, "She wasn't implying that you were supporting this or anything, right Abby? We just don't believe in coincidences here, that's all." He said quickly, trying to soothe both Abby and Robin's tempers.

Abby backed off first, nodding, "I wasn't trying to say you were a Nazi or anything, Birdie. Honest."

Robin nodded as well, slower. She relaxed a little, now only looking a little sad, "I know. I'm sorry, I just…it's a touchy subject for me, all right?" She gave an awkward sort of smile, "Can I help with anything?"

"Actually, you probably shouldn't touch anything," McGee said, "Gibbs would be really upset about it."

"Well I don't have to touch evidence or anything. I could, I don't know, get coffee or something."

"Only if we want to be fired. I'm surprised that Gibbs didn't head-slap us all to death when he saw you in here." McGee winced at the thought, and resumed dusting for prints.

"Head slap?"

"Yeah. It's…it's just something he does when we do something stupid."

"Right…" Robin replied, looking over McGee's shoulder at the other things he was dusting.

"Tony and Ziva probably got shots of this; I don't know why they didn't mention it." McGee muttered, glancing at the black sun symbol Robin had identified.

Robin didn't say anything and she walked around the table, inspecting everything without getting too close.

"You need to sit down," McGee said hesitantly, "You're not supposed to be here, really. Chain of evidence, you know."

"Actually, I do know…sort of. I've always been a fan of police programs on TV. I like CSI best."

Abby looked unimpressed, even a little annoyed at Robin's presence in her lab. "This isn't TV, Birdie, it's real life. And we do things a little differently than you see on CSI."

Robin put her hands up, surrendering, "Sorry. If you had a book or something, I'd stay out of your hair."

Abby shot McGee a rather vicious grin and said calmly, "Yeah there's a book on my shelf in the back...it's called _Deep Six_."

"Okay." Robin hopped off the stool.

"But don't touch anything else. If you do, I can kill you and leave no forensic evidence."

Robin's eyes widened, but death threats didn't particularly bother her, even by people who she knew could carry them out. "I promise to touch nothing but the book, okay? What color is the jacket?"

"Red and white, with the title on the side."

"Thanks." Robin returned, book in hand, and perched on Abby's chair, opening the book. She hadn't done particularly well in school, but her best friend since childhood, Sarah, had been urging her to read more, so she turned to the first page, took a deep breath as though she was about to dive, and began.

Abby smirked and went back to testing as McGee nervously glanced at Robin before joining Abby.

______________________________

"I got lunch, boss," Tony declared, holding the paper bag over his head before setting it on his desk. He tossed Gibbs a wrapped package and slid Ziva's salad container onto her desk. He set his package on his desk along with a drink. He slapped Ziva's onto her desk as well, then walked to Gibb's desk.

"Your drink, boss."

Gibbs stood and gave him a good slap to the back of the head.

"Oof—what was that for?"

"Leaving Robin in Abby's lab while you went for lunch."

"How did you—?"

"I was called to Abby's lab and she had ID-ed a symbol drawn on the gasoline jug, DiNozzo."

"And?"

"Symbol for Nazism," Gibbs said. "I got both Lieutenant Grams and Commander Lucas in separate interrogation rooms."

"You're thinking it's not a coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidences, DiNozzo."

"I know, boss. I'll just get these to Abby's lab, then I'll be back."

"Bring Robin with you."

"What if she can identify more—" Tony began, but he stopped after receiving the Gibbs stare. "Right away, boss." He walked off to the elevator, lunch bag swinging in one hand.

"You are sure about the symbol, Gibbs?" Ziva asked. He looked over at her, her whole body suddenly tense.

"She says that's what it is Ziva, but do a search on the pictures you took at the scene, just to be sure."

"Right." Ziva took a bite of her salad and slid the memory card from her camera into the computer, flipping through the crime scene photos. "Got it. I will isolate it and start the search."

"Good." Gibbs stood, taking the last bite of his sandwich, and headed towards the elevator.

__________________________________

"This is really quite intriguing." Ducky said, placing a tissue sample into the glass jar Jimmy Palmer was holding for him.

"What is, Doctor Mallard?"

"The fact that these people were burned to death, but their bodies didn't burn very far under the skin. If the fire burned as much as it did, and they didn't get out, then there should be far more extensive burning. Theories, Mr. Palmer?"

"They might have covered up with wet towels or blocked off the door."

"Very good, Mr. Palmer. Now take these to Abby if you please." Ducky smiled and put a tissue sample into the next jar that Jimmy was holding.

"Okay, Doctor. Be right back."

"Ah, Jethro." Ducky greeted Gibbs as he walked through the door, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"What've you got for me, Duck?"

"Well, both bodies are remarkably, less burned than I would have expected. One woman, one man, judging by the x-rays. Fingerprints, unfortunately, are burned off, so I've sent for Lieutenant Commander Rishe's dental records, along with his wife's.

"Nothing come up with the blood work?"

"I just sent blood and tissue samples up to Abby, Jethro. These things take time."

"We don't have time, Duck."

Ducky studied Gibbs for a moment, "What aren't you telling me, Jethro? Because there's something; I can see it on your face."

"We think this may be the work of neo-Nazis."

"What?" Ducky looked astonished "Why ever would you presume something like that?"

"Robin identified a symbol on the gasoline can found at the scene as a Nazi and neo-Nazi symbol."

"Robin—? What was my daughter doing in Abby's laboratory?"

"It's a long story, Ducky, but get me that information as fast as you can."

"Of course, Jethro. To think that such horrible practices are coming back is just unthinkable. There was a very unfortunate case having to do with Nazism back in my days as a volunteer medic. It started out much like this, with a fire and—Jethro?" But Gibbs was already gone. Ducky turned back to the charred body on his autopsy table. "Well, you'll listen, won't you? It was a terrible thing these men did. It was in Russia I believe, just a little bit after…"

__________________________

When Gibbs returned to the bullpen, Ziva had finished her salad and was typing insistently at her computer. Tony was shoving a little too much of a beef sandwich into his mouth as he studied Robin, whom was eating her own sandwich at McGee's desk, _Deep Six_ set aside for the moment.

"What've you got?" Gibbs barked.

"The search for the symbol came back, and it is as Robin said," Ziva replied.

Tony jammed the rest of his sandwich into his already-full mouth and chewed awkwardly for a minute, swallowed, then began to speak as he swept the crumbs off his desk into the trash can. "Abby didn't get any prints from the stuff so far. She says that whoever torched the place was wearing gloves. No glove at the scene, though. She's going to try to get traces of the material so we can figure out what type of gloves."

"Any word about the bomb?"

"No, boss."

Gibbs nodded as Robin, munching on her sandwich, looked on.

"David, any suspects yet?"

"I have the Lieutenant Commander's fleet commander listed here. Captain Wayne Jacobs."

"Pay him a visit. And take DiNozzo."

Robin looked up, "Can I come?"

Gibbs shot her a look. "_No_ you can't go. This is an _investigation_, not a guided tour."

Robin surrendered, "Yes sir," She replied. Tony looked back, shocked, but her voice and face shone sincerity, rather than the mocking sarcasm Tony had expected.

"Don't call me sir." Gibbs ordered, and Robin nodded curtly, almost militarily.

"Your father is a sailor?"

"Stepfather." Robin corrected respectfully.

Gibbs nodded, "Taught you respect?"

"My mother taught me respect. My stepfather taught me to respect soldiers."

"Good." Gibbs sat at his desk and sipped coffee as Ziva and Tony stared.

"I thought I told you two to move!" he boomed at his two agents, still standing by their desks. They both scrambled to get their gear.

Robin watched the exchange, fascinated, then finished her sandwich and turned back to her book. The characters were strikingly similar to the people around her and Robin was beginning to suspect that one of the team was the author. She already suspected who it was, but didn't mention it and continued reading. Sarah had been right; not all books were evil.

_________________________________

"McGee, come look at this!" Abby exclaimed, peering at something she had pulled up on the viewing screen.

"What?" McGee swiveled his desk chair and looked at it as well. "What is that stuff?"

"This is a sample of what was in the gasoline jug."

"Abby, that's not gasoline."

"I know! That's why I'm so excited! And, we found traces of explosives on the jug too."

"Abby, there was a bomb in their house. Traces of explosives are to be expected."

"Yeah, but this pretty much guarantees that whoever set that fire also set the bomb."

"We knew that already."

"No, McGee, we assumed that. And as you know, one should never assume."

"True, but I hope you're referring to a specific event here, Abs."

"Gibbs!" Abby exclaimed, "How did you know?"

"What've you got for me Abs?"

"Well, the liquid in the gasoline container wasn't gasoline."

"What was it?"

"I'm not quite sure. Yet. I'm running the tests now. But that's not all!" She called, as Gibbs turned to leave. "We also found traces of explosive powder on the outside of the jug, and we got a partial print on a piece of bomb fragment. A really really _tiny_ partial print! Like, miniscule. Big enough to make a match, but barely."

"Anything else?"

"Did I say I was finished?"

"No,"

"Then let me finish, Gibbs!"

"Sorry, keep going."

"Thank you. Anyway, you know how I didn't find any prints at the scene because of the gloves? Well, the gloves left prints, sort of. There was some kind of mystery oil on the fingertips of the gloves that left markings on a lot of stuff. I've found three different glove print types, but only one had that oil on it!"

"Is that enough to link someone to the scene?"

"Depending on the oil type, it should be. Find me a pair of oily gloves and I'll tell you if they belong to our mysterious fire-starters."

"That's good work, Abs." Gibbs set down a Caf-Pow on her table and Abby beamed, took a sip, and grinned as Gibbs headed out.

______________________________

Tony and Ziva walked into the office building, looking around. The man at the front desk had directed them to Captain Jacobs' office after they had flashed their badges. Tony hit the elevator button. They rode in silence, and once they got to the correct hallway, They checked each name on the door.

"Tony." Ziva said suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Look at this. Commander Lucas's office is right next to Captain Jacobs'."

"So there is a pretty high possibility the men knew each other."

"Yes. And if Lieutenant Commander Rishe ever came to see his boss," Ziva began,

"Then he had a pretty good chance of seeing Commander Lucas."

Ziva nodded and knocked sharply on the closed office door. Pausing, she and Tony listened for movement, for anything. No response. Ziva knocked again, calling, "NCIS! Open the door Captain Jacobs!"

"Captain Jacobs is in charge of the whole naval station, Ziva, he's a busy guy."

Ziva didn't respond, studying the door as though analyzing the best way to break it down. Tony watched her out of the corner of his eye, admiring. It was a quick glance, and as soon as he noticed her glancing back towards him, he looked away. She glanced over at him and tugged at the hemline of her dark green jacket. Her Star of David necklace slid into her shirt, the metal resting cool against her skin. Ziva went to pull it out, but at that moment, Tony began to speak and Ziva looked over, letting her hand slide from her neck to hanging back at her side.

"Ziva, I don't think he's there." Tony said, but just as he was finishing, the door opened. A brunette man in a suit and tie opened the door, smiling. He didn't look more than forty, and he was wearing a big smile as he opened the door. Ziva shivered and Tony glanced over, questioning. She nodded; just enough for him to see, and Tony looked back at the man and smiled.

"Captain Jacobs?"

The man checked his door quickly, then nodded. "That's what the door says."

"NCIS. We need to ask you a few questions."

"Fire away," Captain Jacobs said, smiling. He led them into his office. "You don't mind if I take off my tie? Took me forever to get it on, but still."

"Sure." Tony replied.

Captain Jacobs grinned and undid his tie, fumbling a little with the knot. "Since I'm captain of the naval station, I can wear pretty much whatever I want, but all sorts of bigwigs upstairs insist I dress formally. So I have to wear the tie." He chuckled to himself, finally getting the tie from around his neck. He looked around, then shoved the striped tie into his desk. He looked towards Tony and Ziva in a conspirational manner. "You won't mention it, will you?"

"We need to talk to you about Lieutenant Commander Rishe." Ziva said, ignoring the request.

"Great guy. Really great guy. Great sailor. Whatever you want me to recommend him for, I do."

"He's dead, Captain Jacobs." Ziva said. "In a fire. I am sorry for your loss."

"No, you're not." Captain Jacobs said slowly, "But thank you for the kind words. What can I do for you?" He seemed subdued now, and he sat at his desk, folded his hands, looked at the pair with calm respect.

"Did Rishe have any enemies?" Tony asked.

"Not really. He had a little bit of a temper, so he'd get into the occasional fight, but no one really held a grudge. A couple of fellows didn't like him, but everyone has their own opinions that way. But if he died in a fire, what do you need this for?"

"We suspect that it wasn't an accidental fire. We'll need their names, and a list of friends of his, relatives even? That would be very helpful. We'll need to contact the family."

"That's my job," the Captain said. "You can have their names, but I want to be the ones to contact them. The parents know me, and this is going to be the worst day of their lives. I would prefer they heard it from someone who cared about their boy. How's Jessica taking it?"

"Jessica?"

"His wife. Bit of a firecracker, but she and my wife are good friends. Makes some fantastic couscous though."

"She also died in the fire. The firefighters brought them out, but they were already dead." Ziva said.

"Oh." Captain Jacobs seemed to deflate further, like a leaky balloon. "Louise will be so upset. They were such good friends."

"Could we speak with her?" Tony asked, "We'd need names of people she knew."

"I would prefer you didn't." he said, "She'll already be upset."

"You misunderstand," Ziva said, "This was not a request."

Captain Jacobs nodded, "I suppose not. She should be home right now. If you would let me call her, than I can have her ready for guests."

"Thank you, but we'll just go. Your address, please?" Tony asked.

The captain gave it to him, then wrote down a list of names, handed it to Ziva, then picked up the phone.

"That's a list of the men he buddied around with. People who dislike him are at the bottom in blue ink. I think one of them is on guard duty right now, if you like."

"Thank you." Tony took the list and nodded at the captain.

"You'll call when your ME releases the bodies?"

"Yes sir." Tony replied. He and Ziva left the building and headed for the guard office. It was empty.

"Hello?" Ziva called.

A head popped out from under the desk. "Yes?"

"We need to speak with…Lieutenant Rayes?"

"You're in luck, I'm right here." The Hispanic man flashed Ziva a charming grin. She flashed him her badge in response.

"NCIS. We need to discuss Lieutenant Commander Rishe with you."

"What about him?"

"We want your opinion of him."

"He was a jerk…ma'am."

"Was?"

"Is."

"We'd like you to come with us, please."

"Yeah, hang on a second, I need to call in someone to take my shift." Rayes reached for the phone then dashed towards the door. Ziva stepped into the doorway and Rayes tried, fairly successfully, to barrel through her. Ziva grabbed his arms, twisted her body out of the way, and pinned him to the wall. Tony whistled.

"I think that's a new record, Zee-Vah."

Ziva threw him a glance over her shoulder and she cuffed Rayes.

________________________

Gibbs led Commander Lucas out of Interrogation room two as Ziva and Tony brought Lieutenant Rayes down the hall.

"Hey boss." Tony greeted Gibbs, "We have a winner."

Gibbs nodded at the open interrogation room door. "Stick him in there, DiNozzo."

"Right away Boss."

"And DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Search him this time."

"Right."

Tony and Ziva exchanged a look as Gibbs led Commander Lucas to the elevator, then headed into Interrogation room one. This was getting more and more complicated.

**The plot thickens once again!!! We know Rayes knows something, but what about the guy who originally broke into NCIS? Will Abby's strange oil give us any clues to the killers/arsonists? Will Robin prove herself useful? Find out…next chapter. Special thanks to my amaaaazing beta, DOTS (dragongirl of the stars) for editing all of this!!!!! And PLEASE review me!!!! **


	6. Oily Waters

Oily Waters

Robin turned the page of her book and continued reading, content to sit and partake in the adventures of L.J. Tibbs, Agent Tommy, Officer Lisa, and Agent McGregor. She read slowly, as she didn't really read for pleasure and was still new to the concept. _Sarah would be laughing her head off if she could see me now,_ Robin thought absently, reading a description of the crime scene.

"You are enjoying the book?" Ziva asked, leaning over McGee's desk to peer at her.

Robin leaned back a little, "Yeah. It's good."

Ziva nodded, satisfied, then walked on, going to the copy machine. She put her paper in it, and hit the button. The machine made a few garbled beeps and did nothing. Ziva kicked it and the copy machine gave a little whine, still doing nothing. Robin looked up from _Deep Six_, interested.

"Work you banged machine!" Ziva shouted, delivering another few kicks to the copier.

Robin stood, stuck a file folder into the novel to mark her page, then got up and went over to the copy machine.

"I think you mean blasted."

"It does not matter." Ziva growled, delivering another kick to the machine, which gave a little electronic warble and continued to do nothing.

"Probably not. Do you have a screwdriver?"

"Why would I have a screwdriver, Birdie?"

"Robin," Robin corrected, "And if you can find me a screwdriver, I can fix that."

"You can fix the copy machine?"

"Probably."

Ziva went over to her desk and rummaged through it, then looked around and went through a few of Gibbs's desk drawers. She brought back a flat blade screwdriver and handed it to Robin, whom accepted it and opened one of the panels on the machine. She peered around inside the machine for a moment.

"Got a flashlight?"

Ziva went back to her desk and retrieved a flashlight from her bag. She walked back over and handed it to Robin, who pointed it inside the machine, then stuck the screwdriver into its belly. Ziva heard a few scratchy noises, then a rattle, and the copy machine beeped.

"Try to copy your page again." Robin said. Ziva did, hitting the copy button, then selecting that she wanted three copies. The machine beeped once and nothing happened. Ziva pulled her foot back to kick it, but realized Robin was in the way. Robin jabbed her screwdriver into the workings of the copy machine again, then sat back.

"One more time?"

Ziva hit the combination of buttons she needed and hit 'Copy'. The machine bleeped twice, then began spitting out copies of Ziva's paper.

"How did you do that?"

"I used to work the repair section of a copy machine company, before I found my real job. One of my several false starts."

"False starts?"

"Yeah. I tried quite a few things before I got into the right job. Well, the job I had in Scotland. I always wanted to be like you guys. You know, investigators. But they didn't need anyone anywhere I tried back home. Plus, all the gangs in my old neighborhood would've lost all respect for me. They really don't like komuin…that is, police. Or soldiers. They'd call soldier's kids rag-solds. Short for ragazzino soldato. And if I ever wanted to walk the streets of the Inti again, well, walk them and keep all my friends, then I couldn't have been a soldier or an investigator. It would've been considered a betrayal." She said this all very fast and with a light Scottish accent, slurring some of the words together.

"What?" Ziva asked, after blinking a few times. "I thought you were from Scotland. Ragazzino and soldato are Italian. They mean child and soldier."

"I'm from the Inti." Robin explained with a shrug.

"The where?"

"Inti. Short for International Quarter. On Nortland in the Orkney Islands in Scotland. Whole island is like a Scotch Broth; just a mix of everything."

"You are making less and less sense." Ziva said, staring rather confusedly at the Scottish girl standing before her.

"What isn't making sense, David, is why you are standing there, talking to Robin, when you and DiNozzo should be looking up the information for the people on that list Captain Jacobs gave you." Gibbs walked into the bullpen and gave Ziva one of his trademark stares.

Ziva nodded, "I will go get Tony." She hurried past her desk, tossing down the copied reports, and rushed down the hall. Robin stood next to the copy machine, holding the screwdriver and flashlight.

"Hey!" Gibbs shouted at her from his desk. "Come here!"

Robin walked over and put the screwdriver on his desk, still holding the flashlight.

"What were you doing over there?"

"Fixing the copy machine."

"Well now that you're done, put the flashlight away and sit back down."

"Right." Robin agreed, setting the flashlight on Ziva's desk. She moved over to McGee's desk and sat, re-opening _Deep Six_. A few minutes later, Tony and Ziva came in and sat down at their respective desks. Gibbs left, saying,

"I'll be in interrogation room two."

______________________________________

Ducky was inspecting the internal organs of Mrs. Rishe when Jimmy Palmer hurried in.

"Mr. Palmer. How kind of you to join me. I was beginning to wonder where you had gotten to."

"Sorry Doctor," Jimmy apologized, his face turning a little red. "I had something for lunch that didn't agree with me. I was—"

"I got it, thank you, Mr. Palmer." Ducky answered quickly.

"Right…sorry."

"Well if you would get scrubbed down and come help me, I would be much obliged, since it is your _job_." Ducky said pointedly to Jimmy, whom was standing rather uselessly next to the autopsy table.

"Right, sorry."

"You said that already. Now we just got the dental records back for Commander and Mrs. Rishe, so if you'll hang on a moment, I'll compare those."

"You just said I needed to scrub down for the autopsy."

"Well, yes. I'll be looking at the dental records while you scrub down."

"Right." Jimmy hurried over to the sink to wash his hands and get ready to help Ducky with the autopsy.

As Jimmy prepared, Ducky pulled off his gloved, flipped up his plastic face cover and compared the dental x-rays he had taken to the dental records of Mrs. and Commander Rishe. He matched several sets of fillings and further examination revealed that the teeth matched. Ducky nodded to himself and as Jimmy walked over to the autopsy table, Ducky called,

"The bodies are indeed Commander and Mrs. Rishe."

Ducky pulled on a fresh pair of gloves, put the plastic shield back over his face, and resumed the autopsy.

_______________________________________

Walking around the back of Lieutenant Frederick Grams, the man that had broken into NCIS, Agent Gibbs' face was stony. There was no one to observe this interrogation except the man recording it. Tony and Ziva weren't bantering behind the mirrored glass. Gibbs knew when they stood there, he could feel their gazes on him, but right now, they weren't. This didn't bother him one way or the other; it was just knowledge. He made a second loop around the table and the Lieutenant stared steadily ahead—or so it seemed. Gibbs watched his eyes watching him in the mirror. He sat down, slapped the file folder onto the table.

"Lieutenant Grams." He began amicably, with a hint of a smile on his face. "Why don't you tell me why you broke into my building, knocked out two security guards with chloroform, and evaded capture?"

The Lieutenant said nothing. Gibbs stared; that stare that all his agents swore could lower the room's temperature and make even the hardest nut crack. He sat there, staring, then said very softly,

"I'll ask you again, Lieutenant. What were you doing in my building?"

Grams said nothing and Gibbs stood in a flash, all ice and fury. He slammed his hand onto the desk, face transforming from calm to terrifying in the blink of an eye. "I said WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BUILDING, SAILOR?"

Grams jerked, "Reconnaissance."

Gibbs walked around him again, "Your Commander Lucas has said he ordered no such activity. You're taking the blame for this one, sailor."

Grams's face turned angry. "He betrayed me." He hissed, his face tightened. "He said that we could make someone else take the fall. He swore."

"Betrayed you?"

"I worked day and night for that son of a—"

Gibbs's radar picked up something; someone in the observation room. What were they doing away from their posts? He turned his mind back to Grams, whom was still raving.

"I dedicated free hours to our cause, and he turns me out like I'm one of _them_! One of the lower ones!"

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, all ice and steel again. "Lower ones?"

"Jews. Gays. Traitors. Intellectuals. Foreigners." He spat out each word like it was a curse. "All those people who think they are better than us, but are nothing. _Nothing!_"

"Jews, gays, intellectuals…they think that they're better than you?"

"Some. But there are those, others, who think they are."

_They're right,_ Gibbs thought darkly. Instead he said, "Why don't you tell me who these people are? Your group. The ones who betrayed you."

Grams fell silent for a moment then said, "The cause is still true, even if my brothers are not. No. I won't betray them to _you_." He stared Gibbs down and wrinkled his nose like he'd smelled something foul.

Gibbs stood, picked up his file, and left the room, closing the door behind him. He went into the observation room, where Robin stood, pale. She turned to Gibbs and her face was white, freckles standing out like ink dots. The tips of her ears were very red and she was trembling a little, her face angry. She spat out a few words at the window that Gibbs recognized as curses, oddly enough, in several different languages.

"Why are you here?" Gibbs asked. Robin held out a coffee cup.

"I was sent to give you this, and to tell you that Tony got something."

________________________________

After Robin went off to give Gibbs his coffee, Ziva and Tony sat at their desks, typing furiously. All that could be heard for a while was the clatter of keys, but the ringing of Tony's phone broke the pattern, splitting the steady clacking of keys. Tony pulled his cell phone from his pocket and looked at the caller ID, then winced.

"Ugh."

Ziva looked up from her computer as the phone continued to ring. "Are you going to answer it?"

"No." Tony shook his head and shoved his phone back into his pocket. Ziva turned her head to look at him from the corner of her eye,

"Who is it that do you not wish to talk to, Tony?"

"Her name's Lola, if you must know. She is hot. Smoking…hot."

"And yet you will not answer her phone calls? I am beginning to see why you do not get second dates. I thought Jeanne had taught you something, Tony."

"Very funny, Zee-Vah. And I'll have you know she's…not my type."

"She is…smoking hot, yes? I do not see how she is not your type."

Tony looked annoyed as the phone, which had finally stopped ringing, started up again. Tony checked the caller ID. "It's her."

"Ah, she is…shove-y…yes?"

"Pushy." Tony corrected, "And yeah. She's called me thirty seven…make that thirty _eight _times, since I took her out on Friday night."

"She has been calling you for three days?"

"Yeah."

"So why do you not just_ tell_ her not to call anymore?"

"She'll get the message."

"Judging by your phone—" the phone stopped ringing and both agents relaxed. A moment later, the phone started ringing again, loud as ever. "Judging by your phone, she did not get whatever message you sent her Tony."

"I can't get her to leave me alone." Tony paused, halting his typing, and looked over at Ziva, "I bet _you _could get her to leave me alone," he said slowly, standing up and walking over to Ziva. Ziva recalled asking Tony a favor a while back, about a ticket, and his response to her request for help. Smiling coyly, Ziva tilted her head, stood, walked around and leaned against the front of her desk.

"What will you give me, Tony?"

Tony, recalling the same event, stood up and walked over to her desk. He smiled charmingly and repeated her answer, "Anything you want."

Ziva raised a dark eyebrow, "Anything?" She snatched his phone, snarling "Hello?" into the mouthpiece.

"Tony?" came a perky-sounding voice on the phone.

"No, this is Ziva. And if you do not leave my husband alone, I will very personally _kill_ you."

"Husband? Kill me?" The woman's voice halted and she seemed to be having difficulty processing the information.

"Yes." Ziva smiled darkly and her voice was completely serious. "I am dealing with his relationship with you right now, and if you know what is good for you, you will drop it."

"Oh…sorry." Her voice sounded considerably less perky and she gulped, the noise audible over the phone. "I'll just…go then."

"Yes." Ziva growled. "You will. And do not call this number again."

The line went dead and Ziva smiled, satisfied, and handed Tony his cell phone. She grabbed his wrist as he turned to leave. "My payment, Tony. You said anything." Her grin became wicked and Tony swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He wasn't sure whether he was looking forward to her payment or dreading it.

The elevator made a pinging sound that alerted both agents that Gibbs had arrived and Tony jerked from Ziva's grip, which she loosened to allow him back his arm. Tony dashed back to his computer and pulled his find up onto the plasma TV. Ziva turned and returned to her desk, taking the time to force the disappointment she was feeling from her face. When she sat, her expression was the warrior-Ziva face; emotionless and calm. Gibbs walked into the bullpen and Robin followed close behind, her face still pale. Her ears were still bright red at the tips, which clashed with her dark red hair, and she was scowling fiercely, managing to look angry and sad at the same time.

"What've you got, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked. Ziva inspected Robin and stood, walking over to her.

"What is it?" she asked her. Gibbs shot Ziva a look and she fell silent as Tony began a monologue about how he'd gotten his information.

"_Today_ DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked and Tony jumped.

"Right, boss. I checked the list of the Rishe's friends and looked them up. Turns out, this guy, Andrew Carson, has a record from before he joined the navy. Arson and assault and battery."

"Well go find him, DiNozzo."

"Did, boss. He didn't show up for work this morning."

"Well check the house."

"Called already boss. No answer. Who's going to question Commander Jacob's wife?"

"I will."

Ziva paused in the middle of picking up her bags. "What will you do with Robin?"

"Are you volunteering to be daycare, David?"

"You've snirled it now." Robin muttered.

Everyone, Gibbs included, turned to stare at Robin. It was Gibbs, however, who voiced the question everyone was thinking. "_What?_"

"Snirled. It means screwed up."

Gibbs nodded, looking confused. "Great." He then snapped back to his ordinary gruff self. "What are you waiting for? David, DiNozzo, move."

"Really though, what're you going to do with me?" Robin inquired.

"You're back in the lab with Abby and McGee."

"I'm nareaboots done with being passed from hand to hand like it's hot potato."

Gibbs eyed her for a moment, then didn't ask, merely waved a hand at Robin and began walking. "Come on."

Robin snatched _Deep Six_ from McGee's desk and followed Gibbs down to the lab. She wondered what was going to happen, and what Sarah would say. Something to make it all come clear, probably. As she boarded the elevator, Robin turned to Gibbs.

"What will you do with the—" she said a word, which Gibbs assumed was a curse, in another language, "in the interrogation room."

"I'll take care of it, and you don't need to know anything else about it. You're not NCIS."

"Alright, alright." Robin said. The elevator doors closed with a ping.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

**Okay, we now know what Grams was doing in the building, and we now even have a suspect! What will our band of agents do next? And when are Ducky and Robin going to finally have a talk about their lives? Find out…in the next chapter of NCIS!!! Read and Reviews PLEASE!!!!! (I have cookies!!!)**

**Note: I have never fixed a copy machine and Robin's miraculous repair of the machine in this story should not be attempted by anyone.**

**Note (Again): I KNOW that the Tony/Ziva episode in here is reminiscent of an incident involving Kate Todd and pretending to be Tony's wife. I in no way attempt to take credit for the idea, which belongs to NCIS writers.**


	7. Hunting Season

Hunting Season

The clock on Abby's computer read 2:30, but Robin was already feeling the time change. Back home, it was 8:30. She didn't go to bed this early, but after staying awake on the long flight and the 6-hour time difference, she was ready to drop.

"First day's the hardest." She muttered to herself, as she idly thought of calling her mother. Amy would be thrilled to know that she had found her father. However, international calls cost a lot of money and she didn't want to call collect. Thinking of finding some coffee, Robin stood. She hated the taste, but the caffeine would do her good. As she stretched, she noted a large red cup labeled 'Caf-Pow!' sitting on Abby's desk. That sounded like a reasonable alternative to coffee.

"Abby!" she yelled over the music. Abby looked up and pressed a little remote. The music ceased.

"Yeah?"

"Caf-Pow is good for keeping you awake, yeah?"

"Are you kidding?" McGee interjected, "She lives off of those things!"

"Is it all right if I pop out and by myself one? Time difference is killing me."

"I'll take you," McGee volunteered, "That way I can keep an eye on you and grab Abby an extra."

Robin rolled her eyes, but nodded. The last thing she wanted was to start a fight, which was liable to happen if she didn't get an infusion of caffeine as soon as was physically possible. Her grandfather was Irish and she inherited a touch of his famous volatile temper. Her mother had once said that her temper was like a firecracker; quick to ignite, but quick to die.

McGee led her to the Caf-Pow machine and he looked interested as she dug an American dollar from her wallet, along with a couple of quarters. Buried among a handful of American bills were some he didn't recognize.

"Hey, can I see those?' he asked, curious.

Robin forked over a few bills and McGee studied them.

"A few British pounds and a couple of Scottish pounds sterling. You have to have a little of each where I'm from."

"Where _are _you from? In Scotland, I mean."

Robin took a sip of her drink and could practically feel the caffeine hit her brain, a wave of energy washing over her sleepy mind. As McGee put the appropriate amount of money into the machine, Robin smiled.

"I'm from the Orkney Isles. It's a set of islands off the coast of Scotland. I lived in Hoy, one of the bigger islands, for the first three years of my life. I still have the accent when I'm there. But I've lived on Nortland, a fairly small island, for the rest of my life. Nearly all of it is Inti. Inti is short for International Quarter and it's really fantastic there. Dangerous sometimes, but I love it. People from everywhere live there. People who ran away from family or country, people who wanted to go somewhere different. Quite a few navy kids come down just to have a look around. They have a base nearby."

McGee retrieved Abby's drink and they continued on as he handed her back the assorted British bills. McGee listened, interested, and Robin felt a sense of relief in being able to talk after the constant careless passing of her from group to group that had gone on all day.

"The whole Inti is divided up. There's the gangs, and there are a good half dozen of them with three big ones. Then there's the Blanca Sráid, white street. It's a block that's all neutral territory. It has a bakery, a dance studio, a little grocery store and petrol station, a coffee place, and a Chinese takeout restaurant. That's where I lived; above the dance studio. My mum teaches all sorts of dance; ballet, jazz, highland step, basic tap."

They arrived back at Abby's lab, where the music had resumed at its usual volume and Robin went back to her book and McGee to the research. After about ten minutes, one of Abby's machines beeped and she ran over and grabbed the results, then dashed over to her computer, typing so fast that the clatter of keys blurred together into one clattering keyboard solo in her blaring music.

"Aha!" Abby crowed and she looked around as Gibbs strolled through the door. She saw him and beamed. "Right on schedule, my silver-haired fox."

"What've you got, Abs?"

"I figured out what the oily stuff is!"

"What is it?"

"Oil!" Abby beamed and Gibbs watched her, expectant. She smiled back, waiting as well.

"What kind of oil, Abby?" Gibbs asked finally and Abby beamed again and continued her explanation.

"More specifically, mink oil. From Kiwi shoe polish. Find me some shiny shoes and I'll catch you an arsonist."

"That's good work, Abs."

Robin smiled and Gibbs waved her over. "Come on, Birdie, you're with me."

Robin didn't protest to Tony's quick-catching nickname, only slurped her Caf-Pow and rushed after him, _Deep Six_ under one arm.

_____________________________________________

Ziva and Tony arrived at Andrew Carson's house and knocked. An anxious-looking woman answered the door. She had blonde hair sticking every which way and she was holding a plastic bucket in one hand.

"We need to speak with Mr. Carson. Is he at home?" Ziva asked. The woman nodded,

"He's sick right now. Not taking visitors."

"I'm sorry," Tony interjected cheerfully, flashing his badge, "She made that sound like a question. We need to speak with Andrew Carson. Now."

The woman nodded and let them in, "I'm Celeste, Andy's wife."

"Tell us, where has he been in the past 24 hours?"

"Here, sick."

She led them into a bathroom as Andrew Carson threw up into the toilet. He coughed and Mrs. Carson hurried over, getting him a glass of water.

"He has that bug that's going around." Mrs. Carson said after she flushed the toilet and put a cold washcloth on his head.

Ziva stepped forward and felt his arm with three fingers. He was burning up and sweaty. She nodded,

"Thank you for your time."

As they climbed back into the car, Tony sighed, frustrated. "He was such a good suspect."

"Well, he did not fake that, Tony. The man is ill."

Tony nodded and started the car.

_______________________________________

Robin sat in the bullpen at McGee's desk as Gibbs sipped his coffee and studied something on his computer screen. As Tony and Ziva walked in, Robin looked up, interested.

"No lead." Ziva said, "The man was as sick as a hog."

"Dog." Tony corrected.

"Why is the dog so sick?" Ziva asked.

"Well…you know I'm not too sure about that one."

They typed some more, and Robin went back to her book. About an hour later, Ziva made a phone call. After several questions which Robin didn't really listen to, Ziva hung up, then looked over at Gibbs, "I think I may have something."

"Put it on the plasma." Gibbs ordered.

A military ID photo of a red headed man with a stiff expression popped up on the TV screen.

"Carlisle O'Malley. Thirty-two, unmarried, works with Commander Rishe. He went to juvenile hall for petty theft and possession of illegal drugs before he joined the Navy. He also did not return from his eleven o'clock lunch break."

"Check the home." Gibbs ordered. Tony and Ziva grabbed their gear and Gibbs called after them. "Hey! Take Robin with you."

Al three looked over at Gibbs in surprise. "I have things to do and Abby needs to use her time wisely, not babysitting Ducky's daughter—and before you bring it up, Ducky is busy too. So get moving."

Robin grinned and rushed after the pair of agents, leaving her book on McGee's desk. She rushed after them into the elevator, Caf-Pow in one hand and a smile on her face. As the doors shut, Tony turned to look at her.

"So…are you doing anything tonight?"

Robin looked over at him, a look of bland disinterest on her face. "No."

"Well since you're new to America and everything, how about I show you around D.C? We could go to dinner or something."

"I don't plan on doing anything tonight. With or without you." Robin clarified before taking another sip of her drink. Ziva chuckled softly and Tony shot an annoyed glance in her direction.

They got out of the elevator and went into the parking lot, climbing into a black Sedan. It was early April and still chilly; around 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Robin took a deep breath through her nose, then coughed.

"I'm certainly not in Scotland anymore. How do you all stand the smell?"

Tony sniffed, then shrugged. "I don't smell anything."

"The exhaust, the dirt, the city smells."

"You get used to it." Tony assured her, and he started the car. They drove and Robin nearly dozed off, but with a few more sips of her giant caffeinated drink, she was awake again.

They pulled up to the house and Robin got out, following Tony and Ziva. They went up to the door and Ziva knocked. No answer. There was a crash inside the house and Tony shouted,

"NCIS! Open up!"

There was no answer and Ziva pulled out her lock picks, jiggling the lock open in a few seconds. The agents pulled their guns and stood on either side of the door.

"Go back to the car, Birdie." Ziva ordered and Robin slid alongside the house, out of the way. Ziva shot her a look that spelled doom and Robin whispered,

"If I go back to the car, I'm a sitting target. Here, I'm out of sight, and I can move."

Ziva discontinued the death stare and Tony muttered, "One, two, three."

Shoving the door open, the two agents burst into the house. After several calls of 'clear!' a cat dashed out the front door. Robin leapt off the porch and dashed after it. She caught up to the animal and scooped it up into her arms, carrying it back to the house. She was rewarded with several cuts on her arms and a few more shallow ones on her neck. She walked into the house, calling,

"It's me! I have the cat!"

Ziva nodded and closed the front door behind her. Robin put the cat on the floor and it sprinted off to hide under a living room chair. Robin scowled after it.

"Ungrateful thing."

Ziva didn't comment and instead collected the gear that she and Tony had left outside the front door. Robin reached to pick up the shards of a broken pottery vase on the floor. Ziva snatched her wrist.

"Don't touch anything." She pulled out a pair of latex gloves and thrust them at Robin, who put them on, properly chastised.

"How long do you think he's been gone?" Tony asked. Ziva ran her gloved finger over the coffee table. It came away clean.

"No dust. He has been here recently."

Robin wandered into the kitchen and reached up for the dangling light fixture on the kitchen ceiling. The light bulb was warm.

"He's either still here or we just missed him!" She shouted, as Tony and Ziva were inspecting the living room. Both agents came into the kitchen.

"How do you know?" Tony scoffed.

Robin indicated the light fixture. "Bulb's still warm."

Tony made a face, disbelieving, and touched the bulb himself. It was still warm and he cleared his throat.

"Well, then…uh…good work."

"He could be hiding." Robin suggested.

"Where is there to hide?"

"Up a Skirt," Robin muttered, then chuckled to herself, enjoying a private joke. Tony raised an eyebrow at her, then said in his most superior tone,

"Anywhere _useful_?"

Robin thought a moment. "This is a two-level house?"

"Yeah."

"Got an attic?"

Tony shrugged and Robin went through the living room and up the stairs. Ziva followed, one hand on her gun. Gibbs wouldn't tolerate this, but Robin examined the ceiling with cool confidence. It was bare of the frames required for attic doors.

"Nothing." Tony said, a little smug. Robin opened a door and Tony said, "That's a linen closet, Birdie."

Robin smirked at him and stuck her head into the closet, looking up. A frame was in the ceiling of the closet and the shelves were free of dust, but a few dirt specks smudged a pile of clean sheets. Robin motioned for Tony to come over and she pointed to the trap door. Tony scowled and motioned Ziva over. The three of them stared at the trap door, Robin smiling like a cat whom had gotten the canary.

"Time to go," Tony announced, "We can tell Gibbs the place was deserted."

Robin opened her mouth to protest, but Ziva put her hand over it, giving her a look. Robin fell silent and they started down the stairs.

"All right. I'll take the front door, you take the back. Robin, here." Tony whispered, tossing her the car keys. "Drive down the street, then wait for us around the corner."

Robin nodded and trotted out the door, while Tony and Ziva split up to catch the hiding man.

As she started the car, Robin grinned. Things were looking up.

**Sort of a filler chapter, but we have a real suspect and Gibbs is letting Robin be in on a case! Whooot! There are still questions, but the answers will come later! Read and Review please!!! I neeeeeeeeeeeed reviews!!!**


	8. Trapping

Trapping

The engine of the black sedan sputtered, then purred to life and Robin reached for the stick to shift gears, reaching at the same time, her left foot around for the clutch. As her foot hit air, Robin looked towards the floor. No clutch. She looked over at the shift lever that her hand was sitting on. Instead of the normal 5 gears and reverse options, the stick moved only up and down, each gear labeled with P, R, N, D, and L. The car was an automatic.

_Weird. _Robin thought privately, but she shifted the stick into D for drive and started off down to the end of the street. Smiling, Robin turned the corner and parked by the neighborhood playground, hoping that she wouldn't be mistaken for scum—the Inti generalization name for drug addicts, kidnappers, pimps, pornographers, rapists and other, well, scum. She parked along the curb and shifted the car into park. It was weird, not having to change gears, not having to listen to the engine for clues when to move into the next gear. Not to mention that the steering wheel was on the wrong side of the car. She turned off the engine, and had nothing better to do, so she fiddled with the radio dial until a concerto hummed to life in the speaker. Robin smiled and listened happily. She had danced to this one in a ballet two years…no, three years ago. She kept her eyes open, but relived the dance in her mind. It had been an excellent ballet; the critics had loved it.

* * *

Tony and Ziva got into position and waited for the inevitable noise of the closet door opening, the footfalls on the stairs that would mark when the man would come into Tony's sights. Ziva had the back half of the house covered. The stairs creaked and Tony tensed, drawing his weapon. He smirked; this was just too easy. He could count on one hand the number of times he was one hundred percent sure that a suspect would walk directly into his hands; normally there was a shadow of a doubt. Now, all that was present was the certainty that he would catch the guy.

As the man rounded the corner, Tony swung and pinned him to the wall. The guy never saw it coming and though he tried to take a swing at Tony, he was already cuffed and unable to scratch his nose, let alone throw a punch.

"Got him!" Tony crowed triumphantly towards the back of the house.

"I know," came Ziva's whisper in his ear. Tony jumped a good foot in the air and whirled around.

"I'm holding a loaded gun and you stealth-ninja me, Ziva? What, do you have a death wish or something?"

Ziva snorted, "Tony, you could not hit me if I was…how you say…dancing naked in front of you?"

Tony took his turn to smirk, "I don't think I've ever heard that one before, Zee-vah, but thanks for volunteering the image."

Ziva raised an eyebrow coyly, and O'Malley, the soldier pinned to the wall, groaned loudly. "Arrest me already or let me go and get a room!"

Tony chose the first option, but was still thinking about the second one as he tapped on the window of the sedan. Robin looked up at him and turned down the volume to the classical music that played through the open window as she rolled it down.

"May I help you?" she inquired politely. Ziva bristled, sensing that something was different, not normal.

"Where is your accent?" she demanded, suddenly on the offensive.

"Robin shrugged, "I cannae understand why this is so important to ye. My mates at home think it's funny, how good my American accent is."

Ziva looked a little taken aback, but Tony merely shoved O'Malley into the back of the car and gestured for Robin to get out of the driver's seat. Robin obliged and took a seat next to the sailor in the back.

"Can you do other accents?" Tony asked.

Robin shrugged noncommittally and O'Malley interjected his own thoughts.

"Hang on a second, you have nothing on me."

"Evading arrest is on there, but you're also a suspect in the death of Commander Jacob Rishe."

O'Malley's eyes widened and he stared at the floor, shocked. Though Tony bantered for a while and then turned the radio on to a Golden Oldies station, the sailor said nothing for the rest of the trip. Neither, for that matter, did Robin or Ziva. But Ziva's reason for silence had more to do with O'Malley's prior suggestion than with disinterest in Tony. Quite the opposite, in fact.

* * *

When O'Malley was sitting in an interrogation room and the three were standing in the observation room, Ziva spoke her first words in nearly half an hour.

"Tony, you still owe me that ten dollars."

Robin grinned, "You two bet using cash?" she asked, sounding amused at the idea, as Tony forked over the money.

"Here in _America_, that's how we do things, Birdie." Tony scoffed.

"Oh we'll bet money in Scotland, but I've always favored a more…risky wager." Robin smirked.

"What do you wager?" Ziva asked, curious.

"Depends on who I'm betting and how sure I am that I'll win. But the last man whom lost our bet had to shave his entire body and walk the beach in a bikini for an hour." Robin shuddered a little, "Not the most pleasant image, but it was yǒu qù de díyú."

"It was what?" Tony asked

"Yǒu qù de díyú." Robin repeated

"Is that some Scottish slang too?"

"No, it's Inti. I always swear in Inti. Doesn't offend anyone who speaks English, and if I was in the Inti they wouldn't care."

"What's Inti?" Tony asked, confused.

"A place, a culture, a language. And before you ask, yǒu qù de díyú means funny as hell."

Tony nodded, looking confused, but Ziva had an almost diabolical smile on her face. When Tony saw her smiling at him like that, he leaned back a little.

"Ziva, why are you looking at me like that?" he asked a little suspiciously. Ziva merely continued her smile.

"Birdie's suggestion has just given me an idea for our next bet, Tony."

"My name's Robin." Robin interjected.

"And Probie's name is Timothy McGee, but no one calls him that. Get used to it, Birdie. It suits you." Tony told her with a winning smile.

Robin rolled her eyes as Gibbs walked into the observation room. "DiNozzo." He said, and nodded at O'Malley. Tony grinned and left the room as Gibbs headed out as well. Ziva looked over at Robin.

"What did you have to do if you lost the wager?"

Robin shrugged one shoulder. "Walk the beach topless in swim trunks."

Ziva stared and Robin shrugged. "When the stakes are that high, I don't lose."

"You cheat?"

"No," Robin said, looking horrified at the very idea, "But I would not have made the wager if I wasn't one hundred percent sure I would win."

The rest of the interrogation, the two women watched in silence. Robin was interested in what O'Malley had to say, but Ziva's mind was preoccupied with the things Robin had said about wagers. Her mentality on gambling gave Ziva a few very good ideas.

* * *

"He is hiding something. And he most certainly knew that the commander was dead." Ziva remarked as the three walked back into the bullpen.

"He's tough," Tony growled, "He had his story planned."

"It is a pity you Americans have laws about the treatment of criminals," Ziva reflected with a tinge of regret, "I could have broken him easily with the proper tools."

Robin gave her a sideways glance, "You really shouldn't say things like that in government buildings," she remarked.

Ziva shrugged carelessly and they reached the bullpen. The windows along the side of the building were orange as the day had turned to dusk. Robin's body seemed to realize that her body clock was off by many hours and her head began to ache. Robin yawned and blinked rapidly. She looked around for a clock settled with checking the time on Gibbs's watch. Six PM American time, which meant it was midnight back home. Robin sighed and rubbed her eyes. Another Caf-Pow was in order if she wanted to stay awake another few hours. Seeing as the only other alternative was coffee, she looked from Tony to Ziva to Gibbs.

"Seeing as you don't have tea, I'm going to go get another Caf-Pow, okay?"

"DiNozzo, go with her." Gibbs said, his eyes not leaving the file he was reading. "David, fill me in."

"Boss—" Tony protested, but Gibbs flicked his gaze up to Tony for a moment. "Right. I'll go with her." DiNozzo agreed.

Ziva began reviewing what they had learned in interrogation as Tony accompanied Robin down the hall.

"So," he began. "Got any suggestions for bets?"

"For whoever loses the bet? Or what to bet on?" Robin replied absently.

"Loser."

"Of course. But I keep those ideas to myself. They're less funny the more times they're used. So come up with your own ideas."

"Touchy, aren't we?"

"My body clock tells me it's midnight and the clocks here say it is only six at night. So excuse me if I'm a little short." Robin said, trying not to snap.

She purchased a Caf-Pow, used the ladies room, and walked back to the bullpen, Tony shadowing her every step of the way (excluding the ladies room).

"Gibbs." A black man in a suit walked into the bullpen. His hair was shaved close to his head and he was looking around expectantly.

"Director." Gibbs replied.

"I've been calling you; is there a reason that you haven't been answering?"

Gibbs took out his phone and examined it, "Well you know how well I do with do-hickeys like this, Leon."

"Well I heard that your team is doing two cases."

"You heard wrong." Gibbs replied. Robin sipped her drink, looking from one man to the other.

"Really? Then you're not investigating the break-in at NCIS and the murder of a Commander Rishe?"

"That's Leon Vance, Director of NCIS," Tony muttered to Robin as he moved back to his desk. Robin took a seat in McGee's chair and watched the exchange between the two men with interest.

"We have a man in Interrogation room one that has confessed to breaking into NCIS for reconnaissance purposes, but he got angry because his commanding officer, whom is currently in interrogation room three, denied involvement. He also spoke of some brotherhood hate group which could be linked to the neo-Nazi symbol that we found on the gasoline can at the scene of the murder. We also have a third suspect, Lieutenant Rayes, whom for some reason, knew that the Commander was dead without us telling him. He has yet to be questioned. As the cases are linked, they are still my team's cases."

Vance eyed Gibbs, a stern look on his face. "If you start neglecting a case, then I will pull it and give it to another team."

Gibbs didn't say anything, until Vance was gone. Once the Director was out of sight and earshot, Gibbs turned to Tony.

"Go get Commander Lucas from Interrogation room three. He'll probably raise a fuss, but escort him out. Get a swab of his shoes, for that oil Abby found. We don't have anything on him, but after another chat with Grams, we might be able to get information worth bringing him in for. David, get Grams to a cell, but do the swab, then you two get those to Abby."

Robin sipped her drink and reopened _Deep Six_, a little annoyed to be out of the loop again.

"Robin." Gibbs called. Robin looked up. "Come on."

With a quick smile, Robin followed Gibbs once more into the elevator, down to Abby's lab.

* * *

"Gibbs!" Abby exclaimed happily, "You're here just in time! Like always. I've been seriously thinking about your magical ability to do that and I'm thinking you might not be a mind-reader, just able to feel the disturbance in the psychic plane when I find something. Very Obi-Wan Kenobi of you, Gibbs. Which makes me wonder about where you've been keeping your Jedi lightsaber, you know? I think I'd be—"

"Abby." Gibbs interrupted.

"Right. Too Luke Skywalker for you, huh?"

Gibbs just gave her a look and Abby pulled up a chart on the computer screen.

"Gibbs I figured out what our mystery liquid was. It was like an accelerant cocktail in there, and I would know, you know, having been a bartender and all." Abby paused until Gibbs shot her a look, then she continued on with her explanation.

"It contained gasoline, kerosene, ethyl and isopropyl alcohol, paint thinner, turpentine, and vegetable oil all in various quantities. These guys either had no clue what they were doing or were seriously going into overkill mode. Like, if this was a drink, I'd call it…the explosion special…no, the fireball…no wait, I know, the Montag Blast. Get it Gibbs? …Gibbs?"

Gibbs had left, Robin trailing after him. Abby shrugged and went back to work as McGee analyzed the bomb fragments. Tony and Ziva popped in with swabs off of their suspects' shoes a moment later.

* * *

"Stay." Gibbs told Robin as he dropped her off in the bullpen. "DiNozzo and David will be back in a few minutes. You move one inch and I'll have you out of here faster than you can blink. Tell them I'm interrogating Rayes."

Robin nodded and snagged _Deep Six_ from where she had left it on McGee's desk. She sat back in his chair, sipping the Caf-Pow she had purchased earlier, and opened the novel, beginning to read. She had gotten through to the halfway point in the book, which was a surprise to her, though she had read a total of four or five hours. As she turned the page, Ziva strode into NCIS, with Tony hurrying behind her. Robin glanced up from her book, pretending not to notice how Tony's eyes lingered on his partner.

"Gibbs is interrogating Rayes." Robin told them as the pair sat down. They both nodded and proceeded to get onto their computers and type. Ziva was actually working, while Tony appeared to be playing some sort of computer game. Ziva occasionally shot Tony glances, but Robin, absorbed in her book, didn't pay much attention to the pair.

It was silent in the bullpen, except for the sound of typing, and the occasional page turning as Robin read her book. Tony broke the silence, standing up to announce,

"Okay, I'm starvin' like Lee Marvin. Tell the boss I went to get dinner." He stood and strode out of the bullpen.

"Is he always like this?" Robin asked absently.

"Annoying? Flirtatious? Childish?" Ziva replied.

Robin grinned, "All of the above."

"Yes. He is always like that." Ziva responded with a smile that was half-exasperated, half-affectionate as she thought of her partner.

"Ah." Robin said.

"Ah?" Ziva asked, pouncing on the reaction.

"Nothing." Robin said.

"Why is it that you have not said yes to his invitations?" Ziva asked.

"I'm here to see my father. Not that much of that has occurred." Robin responded. Ziva could tell she was holding something back, but merely nodded and went back to work.

"Where's DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked as he stormed into the bullpen.

"Getting dinner." Ziva responded, not looking up from the computer screen.

"Rayes has a solid alibi. He has been at a conference until a few hours before you picked him up. Since then, the fourteen visitors that have passed through, as well as three officers that came to chat with him all vouch that he was at his post."

"But how did he know that Commander Rishe was dead? And why did he try to run?"

"He claims it was a slip of the tongue, but he panicked. We can't keep him here, but he isn't allowed to leave the area until our investigation is concluded."

Robin didn't comment, only took another sip of her drink, trying to make the caffeine last. According to her body clock, it was one AM, but the NCIS clocks told her it was only seven at night.

She had dozed off for a moment, and awoke to a large paper-wrapped sandwich being shoved into her face. The smell coming off it was intoxicating and Robin bowed her head for a few moments, then tore the yellow paper off of her food. It was a pulled pork sandwich and next to it was a cardboard container of fries.

"Bless." Robin said reverently before taking an enormous bite.

Ziva shot Robin an amused glace, and carefully peeled her sandwich open. "What is this, Tony?"

"Don't worry, Zee, that's barbecue chicken. Pretty sure it's kosher."

Ziva sniffed the sandwich and took a bite, then nodded, continuing to eat. Robin was eating quickly, doing her best to keep the sauce from dripping onto her shirt. She got a drop on her slacks, but the black hid the stain well and after a few blots with a napkin, it was invisible.

"So where does this put us, boss?" Tony asked with his mouth full of pulled pork. Ziva had just filled him in on Rayes.

"You tell me, DiNozzo. Get to work." Gibbs ordered as he walked to the elevator, carrying McGee and Abby's dinners in one hand.

**GAH, it is finished! Sorry, this chapter took me FOREVR. But no worries, I know most of the whodunit, I just need to work out how the team figures it out. And what the heck I'll do with Robin. Well, stay tuned my faithful readers! (and newcomers). Ciao!!!**

**Also, if anyone caught the literary allusion from Abby's comment on 'Montag Blast', gimme a shout out and tell me what book it's from!**


	9. Taking Off

Taking Off

Robin polished off her dinner in record time and was painstakingly cleaning the grease and salt off her fingers when Ziva got up to go on a bathroom run. Robin stood up as well, knowing full well that if nature called later on, someone might be too busy to see her to the W.C.*

"Ziva!" Robin called quickly, standing. "Since you're already going, can I go along?"

Ziva nodded and waited for Robin to catch up, then proceeded onwards to the restroom. Tony looked after them, and then looked over to McGee's desk, which was empty. No one to tease. Tony sighed and settled down to start some actual work.

Robin was washing her hands when Ziva, hands dry already, leaned against the wall, studying the young Scotswoman. Robin for the most part ignored her, but as she dried her hands, she met Ziva's gaze and was forced to ask,

"What?"

"There is something not quite right about you," Ziva told her, studying her as though she was a puzzle to be solved.

"And this coming from you?" Robin scoffed, throwing away a paper towel. "You're about as normal as a Skirt and Dragon pair."

"As a what?" Ziva asked, confused.

"Never mind," Robin said dismissively, completely at ease with being suspicious to Ziva. She didn't trust any of them either, so Gibbs and his team being on their guard were perfectly natural. They had only just met.

As they returned to the bullpen, Robin picked up her book. Subtracting the interruptions, she had been reading for about five hours, by her count. And taking about five hours to read two hundred pages, give or take a few was not bad, for her anyway. She opened _Deep Six_ once more and resumed reading to the clatter of typing.

* * *

"Got anything for me Abs?" Gibbs asked as he strode into her lab. McGee's head shot up, catching the smell of barbecue.

"Umm," Abby said, her eyes locked on the bag of food. Gibbs handed her the bag and Abby began explaining as she unwrapped her food.

"Major Mass Spec has been working on the swabs and—" suddenly the computer began beeping and Abby beamed at Gibbs. "Thanks Obi-Wan. According to this…O'Malley and Rayes both use Kiwi shoe polish containing…"

"Mink oil," Gibbs finished.

"Correctamundo, el jefe," Abby said, delighted. Just then, the video-communicator she had with Ducky blinked on.

"Abigail? Is Jethro there with you?"

"Yeah, he's right here."

Gibbs stuck his head into the view of the camera. "You got something for me, Duck?"

"Indeed. I think you should have a look at this. It reminds me of…Jethro?" But Gibbs had already left Abby's lab and was heading down to the morgue.

* * *

Robin was getting too tired to concentrate on the book. It was giving her a headache, so she put it down and listened to the sounds of NCIS. Clattering keyboards, the occasional phone ringing, soft chatter pierced only twice by the dinging bell of the elevator. She wanted to engrain the sounds of NCIS in her mind forever, as today was the first day she had met her father. She dug through her purse, which had been returned to her. She pulled out a digital tape recorder and began speaking into it. Her soft words soon reached Ziva's ears and the other woman's head shot up, concentrating on the unknown language Robin was speaking. She could make out maybe five words out of the whole thing. 'Father, NCIS, first meeting, mix-up, team' were the terms she thought she caught, but she really wasn't sure.

"You are speaking Inti now?" Ziva asked.

"It's an audio diary. A _private_ audio diary, which I would prefer no one had an ear on. So yes, Inti is the way to go. It's easier than our Gaelic—Scottish Gaelic, before you ask."

"How many languages do you speak?" Ziva enquired.

"Since Inti is a mixture of hundreds of languages, it's really hard to go with an exact number," Robin replied.

"You are avoiding the question."

"You're being nosy."

Tony chuckled, "She's got you there, Ziva. 'Nosy ninja' has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"As does 'dead DiNozzo'" Ziva responded, lifting her gaze to rest on her partner.

He didn't say anything, but the whole dangerous-I-can-kill-you-with-office-supplies thing was a turn on. The threat, though he was sure she would hurt him if he continued bugging her, was more attractive than it was frightening. Robin watched the whole scenario, carefully piecing together the book and the scene before her. She half expected Gibbs to walk in that very moment and say—

"What've you got?"

Robin blinked, confirming that Gibbs was there, not something she imagined. He was. The accuracy of the book was a little unsettling. Tony stood first and rattled off some unrelated data. Ziva had about the same to offer.

"Ducky had some news for me. Cause of death was suffocation, but not by smoke. They were drugged, then gassed with something. Abby's working on the samples now."

"Where does that leave us, Boss?"

"McGee usually handles going through computer information."

"Look up the phone records of all the possible suspects—home, work, and cell. Look for any common numbers or anything suspicious. Split them. Once you're done, go home. Get some sleep. We'll start again in the morning."

"Yes, Boss." Tony replied. Ziva nodded and the pair resumed their typing. Gibbs turned to Robin.

"Ducky's going home in a few minutes. He'll be picking you up and taking you with him. You have luggage?"

"I have a rental car outside with my luggage in it. And I booked a hotel room."

Gibbs indicated the phone sitting on McGee's desk. "Call and cancel."

Robin thought a moment, considering, but then obeyed. Gibbs looked up at Tony and Ziva, whom had stopped typing as soon as he had begun speaking to Robin.

"Something wrong with your computers?"

"No Boss. Getting to work." Tony gave himself a sharp slap to the back of the head. As Gibbs walked out of the bullpen, he gave Ziva a head slap as well.

"Eavesdropping is rude, Officer David."

"It will not happen again Gibbs."

"Yeah. Right." He walked into the elevator, hitting the button that would take him back to Abby's lab.

* * *

Ducky arrived as Robin was nervously toying with her necklace. He smiled warmly at her,

"Ready to go my dear?"

Robin nodded slowly, uncertain. "I don't see why I cannae just go to my hotel room."

"Special Agent Gibbs already has exposed you to the case. So now you have to stay with an agent to insure that you keep any information to yourself." Ducky headed toward the elevator and Robin followed him, her purse slung over one shoulder.

"I need to get my things from the car first. I parked in the visitor's lot."

Ducky nodded calmly and after Robin collected her suitcase and a backpack, they proceeded to his car. When she saw it, Robin gasped in delight. She walked around it, examining the car from all angles.

"It's a vintage Morgan," Ducky explained proudly. Robin ran her fingers over the car's hood ever-so-carefully.

"Frumoaso," she breathed.

Ducky nodded, smiling. "You can put your things in the back."

Robin did so, and walked around to the right side of the car and climbed in. The driver's seat was on the left, as it was supposed to be. Why they drove on the wrong side of the road and had their seat on the right rather than the left was a mystery to her. But as she was technically American, she would respect the country's differences, as she respected the differences of the Inti peoples. Ducky began to drive and Robin looked over at him, hardly believing that he was truly there.

"Tell me another story," she said softly, hopeful.

Ducky smiled and began to speak; spinning a tale of what he had done in his youth. Robin listened, enchanted, as the Morgan rumbled quietly to her father's house.

* * *

"What've you got for me Abs?"

"Gibbs! Right on schedule, as usual."

"Abby."

"Right. Well, I identified the substance, Gibbs. And you're not going to like it."

There was a pause and Gibbs moved his head forward and tilted it slightly to one side, waiting.

"It's called Cyclon B. As soon as it hits the air, it produces hydrogen cyanide. They were poisoned, Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded tersely and walked out of the lab, calling over his shoulder, "Go home, Abs, McGee. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

"Gibbs, it's only eight o'clock," Abby protested.

"And once you clean up, drive home, and have taken care of things there, it'll be nine or nine-thirty. Go get some sleep, Abs."

"Gibbs, I haven't gone to bed at nine-thirty since…Gibbs?" But he was already gone.

* * *

Robin listened to three stories on the way to Ducky's house. Once she got there, was showed around, and was fixed a hot cup of tea, she had heard five. By the time she had finished her tea, it was eight. Her eyelids were drooping. It was 9:38 at night here. She was too tired to calculate the time at home. She trudged upstairs to the room she was staying in.

"Goodnight Dad."

"Goodnight Robin."

She changed into pajamas; loose clothes that were soft and comfortable. She halfway through her first decade of the rosary when she fell asleep.

* * *

Tony and Ziva were mostly through the phone calls when Gibbs stopped in. It was nearly ten.

"Go home. Finish tomorrow."

"Gibbs, we—" Ziva began, but Gibbs shot her a look and she shut up.

Ziva and Tony collected their gear and rode down the elevator together, then walked to their respective cars.

"It has been an odd day."

"Yup," Tony agreed. He let his gaze rest on her as she turned to walk to her car. She was so beautiful…but he forced his gaze off of her and walked to his own car. He drove home and went to bed, as did she.

* * *

Abby and Tim cleaned up the lab to the best of their abilities and went home separately. Abby made a quick call to the sisters as she had promised. Tim sat at his typewriter and thought for a while, trying to process the events of the day. How could so much have occurred since that morning? It seemed to him that the day had been much longer, a week, a year. He set his fingers gently on the keys and closed his eyes, breathed in and out. Soft jazz played in the background. His fingers sprung to life and McGee typed whatever came to mind, just letting the words flow until his mind was empty and he could feel sleep tugging at him. It was only then that he put away his record, filed his free writing piece until he could read it with a clear head. His eyes skimmed the first line as he filed it away and it relayed in his mind as his eyes shut, head on the pillow.

_It was Tommy that spoke first to the red-haired woman before them, even before Tibbs. "Who are you?"_

* * *

Gibbs's sandpaper moved steadily with the grain of the wood, smoothing as he thought. He had seen many things as an NCIS agent, and this sickened him as much as any other murder. It took a twisted sort of mind to commit murder and this one was…he wasn't sure what the word was for it. Sick covered most crimes, and brutal, vicious, and wrong came to mind, but those weren't the right words either. Somehow, though, his gut told him that there was more to this case. Things were only taking off.

*W.C. stands for water closet and in Europe is a term for the bathroom.

**BUM BUM BUUUUUM!!!! Many thanks to my excellent Beta and of course, Don Bellisario for creating these fabulous characters (except for Robin and Amy of course.) Reviews make me very happy and make me want to write more, so if you want me to write more, review me!!! Commentary and criticism welcome, but no flames please. It's just not polite. **

**3 LEXIE!!!!**

**PS: Sorry it took so long. I've been busy with a capital B!!!**


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